Story time. About four years ago, give-or-take, my dad handed me a camera. He said, “Some man gave it to me, said it didn’t work.”


not mine

borrowed from a google image search

It’s important to note, here, that my dad is a lover of junk. Working junk, broken junk, possibly dangerous junk. You name it, my father likes it. So when he told me someone gave him a broken camera, I wasn’t the least bit shocked. He wanted to know how to open it, and see if there was any film in it. That’s why he’d handed it to me. 

With my trust smartphone and semi-reliable data connection, I looked up the camera. I managed to no only pop open the film compartment (it was empty), I saw that it was missing two key components, and it was also desperately in need of a good cleaning. 

I informed my dad that it was missing the winder, that was used to wind and insert film, and it also needed a battery. It was then that he looked at me and said, “If you can fix it, you can have it.”

I was legitimately thrilled. 

eBay had the winder, for cheap (they ended up sending me two), Walmart had the battery, and I had money to buy film, a lense cap, and a lens cleaning pen. 

I quickly realized two things: operating the camera-the sound and act of advancing the film, the sound of the shutter click, and winding the film were all very satisfying.