Childhood Memories

Before there was Flickr and Facebook, before the Internet, digital cameras or even e-mail, people would hold photo-sharing parties (way back in time, like the 1970s). Pictures were processed on small semi-transparent slides that would be projected onto a big screen. I remember my parents gathering friends and family to sit around and watch slide after slide, explaining every detail of their family vacation. These parties were boring, even for those people who were in the pictures!

As technology became outdated, our projector broke, our big screen was discarded, and our childhood photos were relinquished to a box of useless slides semi-neatly organized in the hallway closet.

Last month, I asked my parents if I could take the slides, in hopes that I would find a way to convert them to digital. I searched the Internet and found a few companies that do such a thing. One company really stood out as being reasonably priced, with great reviews about its service. So I decided to go for it. I went through each slide, determined whether it was worthy of digital conversion, and tried to put the slides into some sort of chronological order. I dusted them off with compressed air, counted them out in batches of 100, and sent one box containing most of my childhood photos via Fed Ex across the country.

Waiting for the package to arrive at the company was nerve-wracking! Once I knew they got there safely with a tracking receipt, I was relieved. At least they had them, and once they’re scanned, they’re preserved forever.

Then, I waited. It took about one month for the processing of nearly 1,000 photos.

Yesterday, they arrived. I clicked through each photo on our big screen TV ¾ almost as though I was watching an old fashioned slide show. I saw pictures of my parents, when they were so young and in love. I my parents a teaser picture via e-mail with the two of them toasting each other. My mom wrote back and gave the details of that picture ¾ they were celebrating their first year anniversary and reminiscing about their honeymoon. I saw tender moments of me with my brother, moments I had once forgotten. I cried when I saw a picture of my grandparents (who died before I was a teenager); they were casually celebrating at a bar-b-que and laughing with such sincere happiness. How can you put a price on these kinds of images?  I was reminded of the love and warmth of my childhood. I e-mailed a couple pictures to my brother and told him to expect to receive all of our childhood photos on a DVD. Now he’s excited to see them, too. These memories are bringing our family closer together.

So, I want to thank FotoBridge in New Jersey. I sent them a bunch of useless slides; they returned to me my childhood.

Fur Suits and Top Hats

Last weekend, we attended Further Confusion 2010, aka FurCon, “one of the world’s largest anthropomorphic (or “furry”) conventions”. It’s a magical place full of critters: dogs, cats, birds, horses, yeti, rabbits, mice, and the occasional unclassified creature, plus a handful of Klingons, soldier boys, and characters from cult movies.

About 3,000 ambassadors of furdom explore their own visions of sensuality with Fursuiters on Parade, art shows, dances, masquerade (yes, a furry masquerade ball), Furry performances, and an eclectic assortment of seminars: “Buddhism Panel”, “Created Species”, “How to Write dialog that Doesn’t Sound Like You Wrote It,” “Business Practices for Artists”, and “Norse Spirituality”.

The following evening, we went to the Edwardian Ball, “an unparalleled night of elegance, dancing, music, theatre, storytelling, circus arts, burlesque, and late-night revelry.” Elegant ladies in gowns, handsome gentlemen in tuxedos and top hats, wandering minstrels, a chimney sweep, ballroom dancing to waltzes and quick-step, and, of course, croquet court, mixed with tales from Edward Gorey, the bawdy lyrics of Kitten on the Keys, and shameless women with pantaloons revealing their calves.

We posed on a steam-powered motorcycle, tried on beaver-pelt hats, modeled with living statues, admired the creative costumes of the other guests, and danced Argentine Tango Vals to Viennese Waltz music (since we couldn’t remember what he learned in our Waltz classes).

Both events revealed a contagious joy in the participants. They are exploring a happy part of themselves in a place that encourages it. It doesn’t matter what you are “out there”; in your fur suit, you are that creature, and in your gown or tux, you are that lady or gentleman ¾ transforming into the images of your own vision and creativity.

–TR