No roadtrip is possible, I suppose, without a mishap or two. The Nashville movie-extra jaunt may have forced me out of the 35mm dark ages into the new digital age.
Whilst attempting to pass a semi on I-65 somewhere south of Elizabethtown, my hatch flew open and stuff flew out of the back. The quick-witted Niece managed to save our clothing from being spread all over the highway, but something did get sucked out. It was my camera bag, containing one 30-year-old Nikon FM body, three Vivitar lenses, a motor drive and various other acoutrements of 35mm SLR-dom.
Bang. Smash. Tinkle. All gone, in the blink of an eye. What didn’t shatter on impact was quickly pummeled into oblivion by the semis that were behind and alongside us. The FM body is a tough little thing, but somehow I think its designers did not anticipate it being underneath an 18-wheeler going at 70 mph.
Sigh. I’m a little sad, since the camera has traveled with me through dozens of states and several foreign countries, and recorded all number of personal, family and school events. My dad bought it for me when he still worked at EPOI, the then-parent company of Nikon, and by company policy it had his (and therefore my) name engraved on the bottom plate in gold letters.
