I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about beaten up, worn out, vintage film cameras that weighs heavy on my heart. I can’t help but purchase one whenever I see one up for grabs. I’ve been seeing a lot of them lately, now that the weather is warm and flea market season is in. I’ve got over a dozen in my collection these days.
While I’m not really into music photography anymore, I still have my old Canon Rebel Digital SLR. It boasts a mighty 6.1 mega pixels and is incredibly broken. Yet, there’s no way I could ever get rid of it. It took me on my first tour and introduced me to my girlfriend. There’s history here.
Maybe that’s why these old cameras make me so sad. I’m sure the owner was, at one point, so thrilled to own this little wonder. Photographed his family, video taped his friends. These cameras probably captured so many memories, so much joy, and now they’re left to sit on flea market fold out tables, thrift store rummage bins, and the like.
They just sort of feel like… like discarded people to me. Maybe that’s weird, but I don’t care. They’ve got a home now.
My debut novel comes out this Fall. You'll be able to download free audiobook podcasts 
Vintage Noodz
Can you use them?
Are you serious? They were probably the most bedamned contraptions of their day. Friends and family hated you for asking them to sit motionless in the blinding sun while gnats flew up their noses. And, can you imagine what film must have cost back then?
No instant view and delete features on a spacious LCD screen. By the time you realized you’d cut off your uncle Billy’s head you’d spent three months pay buying the film and getting it developed by some lard ass prick at the local Kodak station.
Get rid of those things unless you want your first child born with hooves.