Cheers . . .

Tonight, while attending a going away party for a friend, I ran into a long time friend of my grandfather. I usually only see Don at the post office where we chat about the weather and complain about all the junk mail that fills our boxes.

But tonight, Don told me a story about my grandfather. I’m not sure when this took place (guessing c1950) but Don hired my grandfather to take pictures of oil production equipment that was about to go up for auction. His job was simple: Take pictures of each lot around the field. Don handed him the camera and granddad got to work. It took him nearly all day to take the pictures. When he finished he handed the camera back to Don who had to run all the way to Terre Haute, Indiana to have the film developed in order to have them published in the auction brochure. Don opened the camera to remove the film only to find that there was no film in it!

When Don told me this story I could only laugh and say, “It must be genetic then!” I continued . . . when I was in high school I fancied myself a sports photographer. A friend who worked at the local photography studio would develop my film for free as long as she could use my work in the high school yearbook. Worked for me. My junior year our football team was playing for the state title. I was stoked to be standing on the sidelines with the team beside me and busloads of fans behind me. It was cold. It was snowing. It was the best night of my high school life. I took some fantastic photographs. There was only one thing worse that our team not winning that night . . . yes, you guessed it; I didn’t put any film in the camera!!

When I told Don that story I thought he was going to die from laughter. I guess it is genetic. As I started to walk away Don told me how much he missed my grandfather, and I agreed. Before we parted he said, “I hope your grandfather also taught you the art of enjoying a good martini.” Indeed he did, Don. Cheers.