Everyone is so different... Plus....I dropped a camera for the first time in decades. Ouch. But not ouch...

 Everyone is so different. I was reading replies to my reposted, "Lonely hunter...." post this morning and baffled at how many people rushed to defend the practice of always traveling with their spouse. The not doing of which was part of the whole point of the post. But Ted Lasso and B. reminded me not to be so judgmental so I guess it's just a different perspective from mine. Or I'm more selfish than most people. Which makes sense given my enormous sense of personal entitlement. You want to have company while you shoot? Go for it. Life is too short to slavishly hew to someone else's dictates. Or suggestions. Or something. Just know that your work will most likely suffer. But if you're okay with that.....

On a sad topic: You know that icky feeling when you're trying to get out of the house to make it somewhere on time and you're juggling your keys and your sunglasses and your regular glasses and a few other stupid items like your cellphone and you feel that camera strap slip through your hand? And a microsecond later gravity introduces your camera, or your camera and a favorite lens, to the hard reality of a Saltillo tiled floor? 

And maybe it even bounces once or twice? And you're just ...... instantly deflated. 

A few questions for the Universe...

Why is it that cameras never accidentally drop onto soft, padded carpeting? 

Why is the fall of a camera nearly always from waist level or higher?

Why is it never our cheapest "beater" camera that takes the plunge? 

Why is it always our newest, shiniest and most cool camera that impacts the hard tiles?

Why do we make the (unconscious) decision to let the camera slide instead of that pair of cheap sunglasses?

So, B. and I were leaving the house to go out for lunch on Saturday. I was juggling too much crap. I was just about to the door when I realized that my grip on my camera was only (tentatively) on the actual strap and not on the camera body itself. And the strap was slipping through my fingers because I just wasn't paying attention correctly, or at all. 

The camera slid down with about two feet of uncontrolled trajectory and hit squarely on the hard surface of the Saltillo tiled floor. I looked down at my nearly new Leica Q2 and sighed. Just sighed. It's been, literally, over a decade since I've personally engineered a camera taking a nose dive from altitude to absolute, unrelenting ground level. I'd like to chalk up the blame to having use a faulty Black Rapid strap but I would never buy or use one on my own cameras; I only gift them from time to time to my least favorite competitors. As mean gag gifts. It was really just a matter of me not paying attention. 

I expected the worst. A complete totaling of the wonder camera. But --- Thank goodness --- I had placed a cheap, thick leather half case on the camera the week before and that absorbed most of the energy. There are two tiny spots on the lens hood that now have no paint. About the size of a pin prick. The camera fired right up when I tested it. And, after lunch I came back to the office to shoot some test shots and make sure there was no mis-alignment of the lens or the sensor. 

I dodged a bullet this time but I gave myself a severe talking to and in the future might take the painful step of hot gluing the camera strap to my hand before venturing out. 

Couldn't be the Canon G15 or the old Alpa? Nope. Had to be the newest Leica in the small flock. 

Relieved that I don't have to send it away and wait. That's what passport renewals are for.......

Pro tip: Don't drop your camera. Especially don't drop it on hard stuff. It's not fun 

Pro tip #2: In that moment of relief that the camera has survived be sure not to share your sense relief with your spouse too quickly. Had I dragged out the drama I would have had a better excuse to upgrade to the Q3. Now that extra rationale has been vacated. My mistake.

Getting a running start on handling a hot week.

We don't have masters swim practice on Mondays. Our club pool is closed on Mondays for cleaning, maintenance and to let the water "settle." I hope someone on the lifeguard staff turned on the aerators last night to keep the water cool. Nothing makes swim practice tougher than too high a water temperature. In fact, for hard swimming anything over 82° is uncomfortable and anything over 84° is dangerous. 

So, my regular pool is closed today and we've got a week of increasing heat in front of us. How to get a jump start on staying cool? I got up this morning, looked at the seven day forecast, grabbed my swim gear and headed straight over to the Deep Eddy Pool. It's run by the city of Austin and it's filled with spring water from deep underground. The average water temperature in the Summer months is around 72°. They drain and refill the pool every three days to insure the purity of the water but even so, by the end of the Summer the pool takes on a green tinge. Nothing dangerous; just a bit green. 

When I exited the car to join the small band of daily swimmers waiting by the gates for the nine a.m. opening I took note that the ambient temperature at the time was already 85°. All forgotten and forgiven when I slipped into a shaded lane in the deep side of the pool to swim some laps. The difference between our swim yesterday at Rollingwood (84° water) and my swim today was over twelve degrees. So refreshing and so delightful. Not cold enough to shock me when sliding into the water but cool enough so that even after a mile it still felt ....... refreshing. Cool. Sweat free. 

After I got that mile in I stayed in and paddled around luxuriating in the chilliness. The lanes were full this morning but there wasn't a line of waiting swimmers. The lockers and showers are in an open air courtyard and I had forgotten the joys of taking a post swim shower under open sky, surrounded by landscaping, with birds ducking and diving overhead. An absolutely lovely way to start out the week.

By early afternoon the Gen-Zs and the Millennials will be awake and the pool will be thronged with lap swimmers and, on the other side of the wall between the lap lanes and the huge, shallow pool there will be groups of small children with moms and dads in tow living life large in one of the nicest pools in one of the nicest cities I know of. Too busy to bother with swimming laps after the morning crew. Too many people waiting for lanes to open. Too many people who don't know the protocols. But first thing in the morning and you have a chill buzz for the rest of the day. Almost feeling down about "having" to go back to the club tomorrow and plow through the warmer water..... almost. 

Now, after coffee, I'm procrastinating about billing Thursday's project, thinking vaguely about marketing, wondering when my passport will arrive and playing around with combinations of cameras and lenses. 

Life is pretty damn good.