A rather strange and odd fact. I have a $200 gift certificate that I have no idea what to do with.
Embarrassing to admit. But I have this longtime policy that I got from the photo-writer David Vestal (1924–2013), an early influence and mentor, later enlisted as a columnist for the magazine I edited. His column was called "Vestal at Large." David said once that he didn't sign non-disclosure agreements because "I'm in the disclosure business." The policy I developed after I started writing about photography in 1988 was, well, to disclose—"man up," spill the beans—that is, be honest, even when it hurts, because then readers have a sound basis for judgment and can decide for themselves.
Quite a number of early complaints went something like this:
They: "You only downgraded the X camera because you had a dispute with X."
Me: Yeah, but how do you know I had a dispute with X? Because I told you.
They: "You weren't even much good as a professional photographer so your opinion is worthless."
Me: Yeah, but how do you know I wasn't much good as a professional photographer? Because I told you.
They: "You just got that information from X."
Me: Yeah, but how do you know I got that information from X? Because I told you.
Etc.
I'm sure I've fallen down in the practice of this principle over the years. Making ourselves look good is human nature, and I can't be immune. But that was the principle from the start of my reviewing: try to be honest, and then people will know where you're coming from, and they can take that into account when they draw their own conclusions. Do your best not to fool anybody, in other words. Admit the awkward or embarrassing facts along with the ones that make you look good.
Calendars
Actually two awkward little factoids have come up recently that I don't want to admit. One is that for the first time in more than a dozen years, nobody sent me a calendar this year! In the heyday (oh, the heyday) I used to get a pile of calendars every New Year. For the past two years I've ticked off my daily eyedrops using calendars gifted by Gordon Haddow, whose work was nice to visit every day. (Thanks Gordon.) Charlie Cramer's calendars were always a pleasure. This year I had to go out and buy my own calendar at the office supply store. I'm reluctant to admit this because I suppose it is a sign of TOP's shrinking readership, the decline of the blog form, the curdling of the camera market, the decay of the World, aging, entropy, and the brooding spectre of perdition! I exaggerate. But...oh well. Disclose.
The other fact is more weird. I got a $200 B&H Photo Gift Certificate over the holidays, which I usually use right away because otherwise I forget about it, and...I cannot think of a single thing to apply it to.
I started pining for camera gear in 1980 when I caught the photography bug, and once I decided to buy a Contax it took me months to save up for it. I bought the lens first and kept it by my bedside (a virtual cult object, and the time I discovered that you can use a 50mm lens as a loupe) while I saved up for the 159Q. I obsessed mightily over that Planar lens and mid-level body. And then it became my constant companion in photography school, which is still the most concentrated episode of every-day shooting I've ever enjoyed, even though I was spinning my wheels madly and staring hard at my own navel and didn't really know what I was about. Over the ensuing decades there was always something to want. Darkroom gear, lenses, cameras. And in the background there was always paper, film, and chemicals to soak up spare money. Now, I have too much camera gear; in fact, I have to sell a bunch of it. I have enough cards. Don't need a strap, don't need a bag, don't need another lens. My tripod will see me out, doubtless. I'm set. The only thing I want right now is a used Apple Watch for its built-in heart-rate monitor, and B&H doesn't sell many Apple Watches; the few they have cost a lot more than $200. I don't know which one to buy anyway.
I literally can't think of a thing to do with that gift certificate. I've looked at SSDs, a new set of cards, software, filters, monolights, instructional books (Gordon's book is still evergreen, but I already have it). Nope, nope, nope. After 35 years of always wanting something photo-related, it's come to this? Feels weird.
Anyway: what would you do if you had $200 to spend at B&H?
Mike
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Featured Comments from:
Doug Anderson: "$200 is kind of an awkward amount isn't it? Not enough for a major piece of equipment, but too much to fritter away on just little bits and bobs. I'd probably change my mind tomorrow but if I had to spend it today I would order a 100' roll of Tri-X ($160) to put in the freezer (it's not going to get any cheaper) and put the remainder toward the annual replacement of the batteries in all of my emergency lights."
calvin amari: "Speaking of your policy to always exeleutherostomize, suggesting that one of your principal sponsors doesn't sell anything you want is unlikely to be recommended in the small business handbook (though I trust that, if they sent you a $2K gift card, you'd not be so stymied.) Check out the wonders of B&H's Photographer T-Shirts, Hats and Collectibles section. You can get a Lego model of the B&H store, full sized crystal or wood models of cameras, and a whole wardrobe of t-shirts."
Mike replies: You sent me straight to the Dictionary! Thank goodness I have a good one. ;-)
David Dyer-Bennet: "Partly—this is the progression of inflation—$200 just isn't significant in photography any more. My 35mm Summicron lens cost me $240 new in a camera store—but that was in 1975 I believe."
