UGR: Photographic life (822 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.88 on 41 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kre8rix (View user info) at 2007-08-22 18:19:01 EDT
His old camera was the last thing he ever gave to me.
When I was ten years old he stood in front of me, beaming. He held his hands behind his back, as he always did when he returned from one of his many business trips.
Paris, London, Moscow.
He always came back with something, some remnant of the part of the world he had been visiting. He had always loved the fact that his job gave him reason to travel the world; but he loved sharing the world with me more.
He looked down on me, smiling, as I bounded up from the sofa.
"What is it? What did you get me?" I shouted as I tried to peak behind his back, eager to take whatever toy or trinket he had chosen for me. His recent trip had taken him to Tokyo, an electronics convention, and my young heart leapt at the thought of a new video game system.
He continued to smile, turning playfully to keep me from seeing the box he held, the bright wrapping paper darting in and out of my view as I danced around him.
"Sit down son, relax," he said, the smile never leaving his face, "You're really going to like this one."
I gamboled around him for another turn or two before landing on the floor, arms outstretched. He sat on the floor across from me and slowly presented me the box.
I tore through the gaudy paper, anxious to be 'the cool kid' on the block that had the new video game system before anyone else. Expecting a glossy, product-covered package underneath, I was surprised to find only a plain brown shipping box. My excitement waned as he took out his pocket knife and cut the tape for me. I dug through seemingly endless wads of newspaper, growing increasingly apprehensive. No controllers, no power supply, no gaming system.
Only his old Zeiss Ikon, the camera his father had given to him as a boy.
My ten year old mind could only react in disgust.
"What the heck is this?"
"Well, it's my old camera," he replied, shaken slightly at my response to his gift, "My father gave it to me when I was your age, now it's yours."
"I didn't want a God damn camera!" I yelled, reciting the words my mother used when she was upset with him.
He desperately tried to maintain a smile as he began to explain; but I had wanted nothing to do with it. I threw the camera back in the box and stormed off to my room, slamming the door behind me. I spent the rest of the night in my room sulking, the voices of my parents arguing carrying down the hallway...
When I woke up the next morning, the camera was sitting on the dining room table, next to my breakfast. I looked at it in disgust as I ate; and without touching it or saying a word, I left to catch the bus.
He was gone when I got home; he had another meeting in New York that day, and he didn't say good bye.
He never brought me another gift after that trip, and there were many. He held his job for another 7 years before he was "let go" due to corporate cutbacks; and he rarely said a word to me. The camera sat on a shelf in my closet for the next few years, gathering dust; a constant reminder of my childhood disappointment, though I could never bring myself to get rid of the thing.
I had hardly noticed the rift that had grown between us, he was usually gone, and when he would come back, my annoyed grunts to his 'hello' slowly transformed to nothing as he stopped acknowledging me as he walked in the door. It was an art project in Jr. High that caused me to pick up the camera again. I was given an assignment to do a photo project for school: Take pictures of someone in your family for a week and make a collage.
For my subject I chose my father; thinking that by using this camera for a school project, he would understand that it was worthless as a gift, and only as a means to conduct 'work'.
That and my mother wouldn't buy me a new one...
It took me a few days to figure out the mechanics of the thing, it was awkward and cumbersome. Nothing compared to the sleek designs of the cameras I had seen on television; the sleek black cameras with their telephoto lenses that I had seen reporters use in movies. The slight against me was reawakened, having to use this ancient thing instead of something more modern and useful; but lack of options made me give in and soon enough I had the thing working.
I took several pictures of him over the course of the week, some where he could see me and I could display the disgust I had in using the camera he had given me; and some where he didn't know I was there at all.
"He looks sad," Mrs. O'Conner said as she studied my collage, "almost always distant."
With a silent sigh, she hastily scrawled an 'A' on my collage before moving on to the next one.
I grinned eagerly at my grade, but my smile faded as I looked up at my work.
She was right.
By accident of lighting effect, or contrast or whatever other lingo-excuse I could recall from the little I paid attention in class, in each photograph you could see my fathers sadness.
I remember trying to talk to him that night, showing him my grade and my project; but the sadness was apparent to me in person now too, and he said very little before heading off to bed.
The next few years flew by, as they often do in high school. I had picked up photography as a hobby, largely thanks to that project several years earlier, and because girls like you more if you are "artistic". The old Ikon rarely left my side as I photographed almost everything I saw; all the while becoming more adept at using natural light, the rule of thirds and so on. I had used various summer jobs to purchase more expensive, newer cameras, and by my senior year I had saved enough to purchase a Canon Digital Rebel SLR; but I always seemed to go back to the Ikon.
It was around the same time that my father had been laid off, and he was around the house a lot more, taking up handy-man jobs when it suited him; but the distance between us remained.
That's when I started taking his picture again, sometimes when he was paying attention and others when he wasn't; but I used the Ikon every time.
Eventually, our relationship became at least somewhat civil; I had left for college to study photography, and when I would come visit we would make small talk, but rarely much more than that. My mother had become quite adept, over the years, at playing mediator between the two of us';but every time I saw him after that, I would quietly take his picture.
Years passed, as they do; and my life took me away from home and my family. I started one of my own, and as with most people, we would make periodic visits back home. Our relationship had grown closer and he would smile and nod at me as I told him about work and family, and he did the same; though I never did tell him about the collection of photographs I had of him.
The last time I saw him was about a year ago, when we had gone back for a couple weeks in the summer and he had taken my kids to the park. He died about a month after that.
Massive coronary failure...
At the funeral I gave the eulogy; a haphazard amalgam of the different things my mother had told me, as well as some of his friends and neighbors; and I broke down in the middle of it. My wife came to my side and helped me finish and after the service people kept commending me on 'how brave and strong I was' and I 'must have loved him very much'.
The truth is, I wasn't crying because I missed him or because he was gone.
Looking out over the crowd, I saw the faces of the people who's lives he had touched; the ones that knew and loved him on a daily basis.
I cried because they had known and loved my father much more than I, in my childish selfishness, ever had. All I have left of him is a photographic life; a tribute to the man who had spent his life helping others.
The man who gave me the one thing that was to become my career; and who's love I shunned for a video game system.
User Reviews
Submitted by Alter (user info) at 2007-09-26 22:30:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No, Comment.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-25 16:11:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Sacrilicious: this is a total work of fiction...as far as I know my dad is still alive.
Again, to everyone that mentioned it...I apologize for shafting the whole genre thing. After steak took the whole 'war photographer' thing, this idea popped in my head and for the life of me, it wouldn't go away.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-08-25 13:14:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It saddens me to think that one act of petulance from a child in what seemed like a decent relationship could really damage it to this extent. I really enjoyed this.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-08-24 07:53:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Although no A/A and that last line sucked, this piece ruled my face off...
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2007-08-24 06:17:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Flippin hell I feel sad now. Good work.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2007-08-24 06:08:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2007-08-23 08:30:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story.
no I'm not crying...there's something in my eye..fuck you.
--
Yeah I have a bit of dust in mine.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-08-23 19:38:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Director (user info) at 2007-08-23 12:42:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by azurefroz (user info) at 2007-08-23 12:03:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Action/Adventure? Barely..
Submitted by For_Pony (user info) at 2007-08-23 11:46:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Despite the lack of action/adventure this was an excellent read. I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the next round.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-08-23 10:02:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-08-23 09:52:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bollocks to the genre thing. This story was just fine the way it is...thoroughly enjoyable reading.
Submitted by zwerg (user info) at 2007-08-23 08:55:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I didn't mind that it wasn't the correct genre, because I really liked it.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-08-23 08:46:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I know who you are and i'm pretty certain I've enjoyed all your tales. I haven't looked but as I recall you still have a series to finish. a series i was enjoying very much.
I reserve the right to adjust my rating for neglect of the genre in the interest of competition but this was pretty damn awsome.
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2007-08-23 08:30:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good story.
no I'm not crying...there's something in my eye..fuck you.
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2007-08-23 02:51:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-08-22 23:58:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Zebra, the third person helps me end any confusion regarding who I'm talking to, with, and about. I use it almost like highlighting a bit of text. Using "I" in reference to myself just gets old after a while.
Of course I'm amusing sometimes. I go with the "room full of monkeys and typewriters" theory, and keep the objective for creativity, innovation, or new ideas as the ultimate goal.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-08-22 23:37:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
okay boys.
Kre8trix, you say that you edit your stuff down so people will read it, but you also say you fly under the radar on ubersite.
If so few people (as you say) read your stuff, why not just write it how you want without self-censorship? Just a thought.
Writing well in and of itself should be of some value to you.
btw, I noticed this long before now.
As for steak, you are amusing sometimes. Referring to yourself in the third person is pretty high school, of course, but maybe you are in high school.
Writing well will serve one well regardless of what you end up doing. You'd be surprised how many people fail to get jobs/advance in their careers because they can't write a proper letter, memo, or e-mail.
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-08-22 23:08:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Apparently Zebra doesn't know how steak's creativity and writing ability functions. It's all about the feeling.
The only reason people come close to recognizing my works here, is the sheer numbers of them. I've got more than 200 posts, and barring resubmissions and accidental posts, the idea was to have something new or creative in each one.
I could switch to another website, but you only get positive reviews, comments, and OMG UR A RITER!! U MUST BE SOOOO LIEK SMRT LOL!!!1!!! where as here it's mean and honest. I prefer to get a tiny diamond in the rough rather than the world's biggest cubic zirconium. I've also had part of this conversation before.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:39:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
and to clarify; It's not to say that I don't enjoy praise, because I do; but I want to know that someone genuinely enjoyed what I wrote, and if they don't read it, then it defeats the purpose.
and though, not thought...
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:33:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
hey Zebra, don't get me wrong man...I write here to get honest opinions. I shorten what I write or cut myself off because I want constructive criticism, rather than the random 'WTF I'm NoT ReaDing All ThAT!!!?!?'
plus every now and then My ADD kicks in and I see something shiny and then it's game over...I have no delusions of grandeur as far as my writing ability. Shit I joined the army because I couldn't think of anything better to do with my time.
This is a hobby, nothing more, thought I do enjoy it.
Submitted by Rejection (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:31:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My favorite UGR thus far, but that could just be due to me only reading three.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:23:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ahahaha at steak.
If you are a writer, and you have an assignment, you just have to fucking write it.
Whether or not you 'feel' it.
If you have any aspirations as a writer and you have the problem you say you have, this would have been a good opportunity to practice a little discipline.
As for the kre8trix, you should ignore the short attention span of this site and write as long or as short as the story demands.
You actually are a pretty good writer, but anyone who writes specifically for ratings or attention on ubersite will probably develop a lot of bad habits.
Your stories will be too short or your ego will be too big and then you'll venture out in the world shocked at what is considered quality and what sells (sometimes they're even the same thing)
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:10:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
yeah I feel ya. My only problem is that I'm a wordy bastard and every now and then I forget about the average uber users attention span. I never really start shit with anyone and no one knows who I am so by and large I get ignored. It's a comfortable little uber-niche for me I think.
Hey thanks FTW, and sparkle...maybe next time I'll learn to follow directions...
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:02:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I forgot to mention, I really like this.
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-08-22 22:00:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I could have "fleshed it out more" but the feeling wasn't there. That's why I write everything on the spot as soon as I have the idea. I never change anything.
If I lose the feeling in the translation from idea to text, the story suffers.
I'm the writer that everybody knows and loves, but nobody remembers. I can't fade into obscurity, because I'd have to have faded from somewhere.
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:48:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This was awesome.
No action/adventure though keeps you from a +2.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:46:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
nah, right after I saw that you had taken the 'war' aspect...I drank a beer and sat and wrote this.
ok maybe two, and I know that doesn't excuse me from forgetting the genre, but damn. I had been planning on the Combat photographer thing for a few days now.
To tell you the truth, I hadn't written shit, I just had the idea; and if you hadn't done it, I still would've drank a couple beers and pounded something out in like 40 minutes. I'm just cool like that.
I really like the way you went with it though, like some people said, flesh it out more and it would be really badass. Then you could join the ranks of people who write stuff that no one reads and fade into obscurity like myself.
It's fun here
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:41:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
How do you forget the subject matter? Even I slightly kept to the subject matter (mostly because if I didn't take "war" first, you'd have gotten the easy subject)
So, did you think about this one for a few minutes first, or did you write it on the spot like I usually do?
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:35:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
steak...see comment numero uno
and to whoever..I'm not mexican damn it!!
but I will wash your car because I'm weird like that...
I know the last line was fucked...I tend to do that when writing for something that I'm given a title for...everyone else, thanks for the support
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:33:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The "action/adventure" is right over here!
http://www.ubersite.com/m/111149
Submitted by ilikesteak (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:27:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic post.
It'd be unsporting to -2 my competition, and I'm classy like that.
My question. Where was the Action/Adventure?
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:15:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well done.
Now get back to washing my car you stupid mexican
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-08-22 21:14:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-08-22 20:07:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Didn't read this.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2007-08-22 19:28:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-08-22 18:58:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
CATS IN THE CRADLE AND THE SILVER SPOON
LITTLE BOY FLEW TO THE MAN IN THE MOON
------
I am going to extract, burn, chop into a fine powder, and snort your soul for putting that song in my head. I must now go listen to XTC "All you pretty girls" 50 times. It's either that or get out my hammer drill.
On an unrelated note: this was a good write, too.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-08-22 19:00:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this but your last sentence needs work.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-08-22 18:58:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
CATS IN THE CRADLE AND THE SILVER SPOON
LITTLE BOY FLEW TO THE MAN IN THE MOON
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2007-08-22 18:45:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by experima (user info) at 2007-08-22 18:23:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
sigh
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2007-08-22 18:21:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
FUCK!!!
I forgot about the action/adventure part...
Lets say my dad died in a war or a robbery or something instead...
yeah, an adventurous robbery....with lots of action...
fuck