I’m a loser. I lose everything. Most people lose golf balls on a course; I lose clubs. One time, I lost the golf cart. People lose their wallets; I lose my pants. Don’t ask. It’s a long story.
My wife, Mary Ellen, agrees that I’m a loser. Like most people, I misplace things occasionally, but the problem is that my wife says I’m not very good looking. Wait, that doesn’t sound right. What she means is, I don’t look well. No, that’s wrong, too. I, I, I…wow, I’m even at a loss for words.
I recently reported on the Wolfsies’ trip to Banff, in the Canadian Rockies, where I spent most of the time waiting in the car due to my bad knee. I managed to snap some great photos of my son, Brett, and Mary Ellen, as they headed out for a hike each morning, and I got some more scenic pics in the evenings when we were in the city having dinner.
I’m a good photographer, but at the airport before our flight home, I started to lose focus. I put my digital camera in the large grey plastic tray to go through the scanner at security. Then I forgot to retrieve it when it exited the conveyor. When I went back five minutes later, it was gone. Yes, my Konica had been stolen, along with the pictures showing all the fun we had, although most of the photos were of Mary Ellen and Brett walking away from the car and heading off without me.
I had my name and e-mail address taped on the back of the camera. I’ve always put this info on every electronic device I own. My cell phone had my phone number on the back, which seemed like a good idea until I realized that if someone found my phone and called, they’d just get my voicemail.
I assumed the camera was gone forever. Then last week, I opened my e-mail and there was this note:
Dear Mr. Wolfsie:
Thanks for leaving your camera unattended at the Calgary Airport. I’ve always wanted a vintage one like that. But when I started looking through those pictures, my heart just went out to you. You have such a lovely family, so I am e-mailing you all your digital photos.
Now just a few suggestions from an objective observer. Your wife is very attractive, but tell her a lime-green sweater does not work with red hair. What’s with you and the white socks and blue jeans? And tell your son not to slouch when he walks. Also, why so few shots of you? Ever hear of a selfie? You should have more fun. The Wolfsies look very stiff.
Anyway, Dick, if I may call you that (after all, I feel like I know your whole family), I am keeping the camera, even though I would have preferred a Nikon. Some final advice: you probably think half a head is better than none. That’s not true in photography.
P.S. Do you know if they make a carrying case for this model?