So…as you probably have stopped checking the page with anything but a passing interest, I’ll save the apology for my lack of posts and just jump right in to this one.
First off, I start with a bit of history. I take you back to 1997. The first digital cameras had just started hitting the market and really were only available to those with large incomes (since they ran around $1000). One of the first of these was the Kodak DC120.
John Henshall has this to say about it in his column”John Henshall’s Chip Shop” in “The Photographer” May 1997.:
Kodak’s DC120 is just out. It looks similar to the DC50 but in a dark maroon body and costs $1000 (about £670). The camera uses an 850 x 984 pixel CCD to produce a 1280 x 960 pixel file – not far short of the SLR-based DCS410/420 cameras. The file is interpolated by sampling two adjacent rectangular pixels to make three square pixels. Image quality is very good. The camera has a built-in 3-to-1 zoom, equivalent to 38-114mm on 35mm, an optical viewfinder and a 1.5 inch LCD panel on which the image is displayed for a few seconds (to conserve battery life) after the exposure is made and on which stored images may be reviewed. The internal memory will hold two images without any compression, or twenty at ‘good’, twelve at ‘better’ or seven at ‘best’ quality compression setting. Plug-in CompactFlash memory cards extend the storage capacity without limit.
I go into that only to say that one of our VPs that knows I’m a gadget freak actually had one of these (that he purchased new) that he gave me last week. I was in gadget freak heaven as I played around with it. And it is in that spirit that I bring you this thrift post.
I actually took that camera with me to the thriftstore when Nancy and I went on Saturday and used it to take all the pictures. And without further ado….
Saturday’s Thrift (part 1):
(now, truth be told, this is actually last Saturday’s thrift…but more on that later)
Once upon a time, before digital cameras, you could get your prints right away (after 90 seconds of flipping it up and down trying to hurry it up). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…the Polaroid. Still used by modeling reality TV shows everywhere…because if you can look good in a polaroid shot..then…damn..you look good!
It’s the last….er…supper? On the spaceship (that looks oddly like the inside of a front porch light) being held up by…um…Zeus? Something’s not right…I can’t quite put my finger on it…
The premise of this candle is that you light it at the exact moment the coverage of the ball festivities in time square start and by the time the ball touches, the 1999 portion of the candle will have burned down and you will be left with a 2000 candle…with a bunch of er..um…waxy residue from 1999. Which come to think of it, that’s exactly what happened to me on that particular New Years. But it’s not really a good story. So we’ll just leave it at that.
This looks like some trippy tiki from some ‘kids’ show that was produced by a bunch of aging hippies who put in secret code messages for their anti-establishment compatriots that could only be deciphered whilst high. I’ve got my eye on you HR Puffenstuff.
What the clown didn’t tell the child was that as soon as the balloon popped, another mime would die. It was in this way that the clowns silently, and using the darkest magic, eliminated their opponents.
Yes of course! The only thing better than having these crappy earthenware things in my backyard would be to have them in my house!! On display for everyone to see. Why didn’t I think of that earlier??
You have no idea how close this cool-ass phone was to being mine. Nancy does, because she talked me out of it. But it was cool enough for a picture and a remorseful sigh. Sigh.
Time for bad ceramics class rejects! And on that note… (coming in as close alternate was “I’d like you to note the time…”)
If you couldn’t tell…this was hand painted. With love. And an equal sprikling of batshit crazy.
Ooops. I lied. The batshit crazy was saved for this piece I like to call “Choke on this, Q*Bert!”
You know what’s worse than those cheesy ‘fake’ pix that you see in new frames? The real ones people leave in. I like to call the lady on the left, Martha. And the couple on the right, Bif and Tracy.
OK. I’m not sure that (a)I want to know what it is I am supposed to do…and (2nd) that I want that kind of knowledge up there on a little marker board for all to see. I think those things are best left wrapped up in a Hardees bag between the matress and the box springs, mmmkay?
And here’s Martha on her boat. Well, I assume it’s her boat. She could just be crazy and the actual boat owner is taking her picture. Maybe as evidence that she was alive the last time he saw her. Oh man..Martha….where are you and who’s freakin’ boat is that, anyway??
Kids remember, doing drugs before ceramics class usually winds up in something like this.
I had an R2-D2 latchhook kit once. It did nothing for my masculinity. And I have to think that by putting Nascar in a latchhook kit, the crafts people are in league with the psychiatrists and little Billy Bob is going to wonder why his dad beat the tar out of him for wantin’ this from Wal-Mart. Silly Billy.
Somewhere in the 70’s is a plant that should be hanging.
Just out of curiosity, I wondered what the condensed version of the Bible said. Unfortunately, my lack of biblical prowess prevents me from summarizing it into three or four sentences. But rest assured, it would have been funny. To me.
(*portkey not included. Your results may vary. Zonkos takes no responsibility if He Who Must Not Be Named kicks your ass to the curb for having such a fugly lamp.)
Wow. If only I was a hippy. And this was a full size guitar. I probably still wouldn’t buy it. I just think it’d be cool to be a hippy.
This didn’t, but you should have witnessed the mental tap dancing I had to do to talk myself out of it (it went a little like this…”even if you did that trim-spa shit,yo…you are NEVER going to fit in a Medium again). And finally I conceded that I was right, much to my displeasure. Oh well, we’ll always have the photograph.
That’s Miss Chanandler Bong.
Oh good Lord. It multiplied!
If you ever hear someone tell you that you’re wearing a Cosby sweater. Do not thank them. In fact, you are well within your limits to punch them dead in the face. This is a (very tame) example of a Cosby Sweater. See what I mean? Aren’t you glad you didn’t thank them?
One is a mistake. Two is really bad. Three….well, three is just evil. This is what the devil makes you sit in while you’re in his waiting room waiting for whatever eternal damnation he has stored for you. Most don’t make it past the couch.
OK. Lemme get this straight. It’s a board game…where you draw a card…the card tells you to make a noise…and if you make it good enough, you move your piece on the board? Hmm. I see. Tell me again what we need the cards and board for?
And just what is Hanger’s Fast Service and why would I want to remove it?