Monday, April 5, 2010

Buying a camera

We're buying a new camera. Actually, I tell a lie. I'm buying the camera and Mr Gingerbread is directing operations. Our little 3-megapixel Canon looks like a dinosaur compared to what's on the market nowadays, and I've discovered its limits because, goodness knows, I've taken a gazillion photos on every possible setting. Digital photography has set me free: no longer constrained by film, I can go nuts and snap everything in sight. Adjust settings and snap again. Adjust settings and snap again. Repeat ad infinitum or until I'm dragged away from the building, cloud or door that's caught my fancy.

Anyway, Mr G. has taken matters into his capable hands because while I take care of the artistic side of things, he looks after the technical stuff. He speaks Nerd and I don't, and this is a distinct disadvantage when buying a digital camera. Our trips to the local electronics store are like this:

Me: What about this one? Look, it's red. Isn't that cool?
Mr. G: Tsk, tsk (removes shiny red camera and replaces on shelf.)
Enter shop assistant, stage left.
S.A.: Can I help you?
Me: Yes, we're looking for a camera.
S.A.: What kind of camera did you have in mind?
Me: Well, one that takes pictures, ideally.
S.A.: Do you want one with a schnickity or a 25-blagette compluffle?
Mr. G: I don't think we'll be needing the compluffle because that's already been replaced with a zerzizzle, hasn't it?
(Shop assistant recognises a fellow Nerd speaker and from this point on, I do not exist.)
S.A.: Aha! (gleefully) But you can't underestimate the importance of the compluffle when you're taking 4-million fji pictures with a 93 million resolution! You might've had negative experiences with the 12-blaguette compluffle, but the newer models are really quite fantastic.
Mr. G: Yes, but is the blagette necessary if you're going to ollopf it in PhotoSlop? Wouldn't it be better to take the zerizzle feature and buy an external ollopficator?

At this point, I'm usually to be found in a waking coma, staring at the tripods as though entranced. After a while, Mr Gingerbread comes and picks me up, and then excitedly reports all of his newly-acquired knowledge on the long journey home. Okay, we only live five minutes from the electronics store, but it seems like a long way away when you're expected to respond to this conversation: "And then I asked him what the life-expectancy of the jilostify lens was and he said it would be far more sensible to invest in a sibaquate filter and combine that with the zerzizzle. And then I said, why don't we just go for the compluffle with the..."

At the end of the day, I just want something that will allow me to take a few pictures of the things that hold a strange fascination for me, e.g. The Sky

Deauville in Normandy, France

and colouredy buildings

and odd doors

and, most of all, food. Especially cake. Had you noticed?

Unfortunately, I don't know how to say, "I need a camera to take photos of the sky, buildings and cake" in Nerdspeak, so I can only hope my husband has interpreted my wishes correctly and has ordered one that will allow me to take some nice snaps.

Hold your breath, readers. We'll see whether he's made the right choice very, very soon...


Anonymous said...

I hope your husband picked out the perfect camera for you. :-)

artful soul said...

Love the story!
Helpful hint on the non-technical aspect of camera shopping...DO NOT GET RED! Get silver or white, else you will have a colorful blob in the center of any shiny object closeup.

Suzie said...

Ha! I think my boss and your husband are related! He, too, speaks Nerd until my eyes glaze over and I am hyzmatized! Great story!

rebby said...

As I read this I had water coming out of my eyes and woke the cat with my laughing. My SO is also fluent in Nerd. He is by profession a Senior Applications Development Manager - he comes home and speaks to me in acronyms!