Life through the lens

As I drove southbound on I-95, I thought I could pull it off. Sue seemed to be sleeping and the three kids were reading or watching a movie. I turned and decelerated at the Kingsland, GA exit. Suddenly, everybody was wide awake and attentive. “Oh no,” wailed Sue. “Not again!” She turned and looked at the kids, who echoed similar opinions. Damn, busted.

I’ve always been a shutterbug, living life through the lens. I got my first good camera my senior year at Florida, a Pentax K1000, 35mm. I took hundreds of pictures, everything from dorm life to 15-foot gators snoozing in the afternoon sun at Lake Alice.

Later, I moved from digital point-and-shoot to a DSLR, a Canon Rebel. Unlike the old days, the results were immediately available. Too bright, washed out. Too dark. Someone had their eyes closed. Didn’t get the overhanging Spanish moss. It was a invitation to take 10-15 pictures of the same thing.

US Route 17 is a backroads alternative to I-95. It runs parallel to it, and although it’s slower, it’s immensely more interesting. Little one-light towns with a diner and a gas station. Antique shops. Farms and abandoned stores. I just had to take pictures. And the high point was the St Mary’s bridge.

The St Mary’s river is the boundary between GA and FL and Route 17 is the way we’d drive when I was a kid going to visit my grandparents in Daytona Beach. To me, driving Route 17 is a throwback to yesteryear, something from the Mad Men era, when Howard Johnson’s had diving boards and seatbelts were casually, if ever, worn. And the bridge over the St Mary’s river was always a highpoint…we’d all cheer at the 1960s era “Welcome to Florida” sign. There’s a picture of it at the top of this post.

So, inexplicably, every time we drove to Florida, I felt an overwhelming urge to get off I-95, go west three miles, and pick up southbound US 17 until we crossed the river. I dunno, maybe a little OCD…but it was an itch I had to scratch. A nod to my family from those halcyon days.

But my crew had been there, done that. Numerous times. They were sick of it and if I got off I-95 in GA, there’d be a collective outcry, a near mutiny

About a year ago, I was having brunch with my oldest. She’s a clinical psychologist and also an avid photographer. Having a kid who’s a therapist is an invitation to have every move analyzed, but our discussion this particular morning was transformative. We talked about photography, the psychological implications, trying to capture and preserve moments of time, living through the lens rather than experiencing the moment itself.

So this year I was intentional. I left my Canon DSLR at home and relied on my camera phone. Instead of coaxing people into stiff poses at a restaurant, I simply enjoyed looking at the menu and trying the appetizer.

In lieu of using the telephoto lens and frantically clicking away, missing the moment… I simply watched the fam wakeboard behind the boat on our summer vacation, I enjoyed the wind, the spray, cheering them on, taking my turn.

Birthdays, holidays, vacations… no Canon, just my phone. Instead of 5-7K pictures… of which 300 might be good, and the rest junkers to be deleted “some day”…what I captured with my phone was it. So OK, Sue had her eyes closed in this one… I learned to live with it.

I regained a key component of my philosophy of Carpe Diem…being present in the moment, seizing each hour, the day.

And those tens of thousands of junk pix taking up room on my laptop?

I might need to apply Maxine’s Maxim during Christmas and start 2025 fresh 🙂

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