Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Paul Simon had something with Kodachrome.

I found myself alone with some extra time at my house of growing up yesterday and subsequently found myself looking for a document (my immunization records - more later on that) that I am CERTAIN is as that house. Mom couldn't find it, but that doesn't mean it's not hiding in a crevasse somewhere taunting me.

What brought me to that house alone with time on my hands ("too much time on my hands........too much time on my hands.....") was a favor I was doing for the parental units - something having to do with a stovetop. However, if I tell you, you'll have to a) become a member of this family for which there are no current openings; leading to removing one of the members in existence, which is simply out of the question or; b) go missing for a very very long time in which you'll have to get into a very uncomfortable position for, well, frankly, forever.

But back to the house. So, when the individual handling the stovetop issue left (e.g. the repair dude) I thought that I'd just look on my own. I went to the place it SHOULD BE, my baby book.


What's a baby book? Surely you jest ("I don't and don't call me Shirley" - Airplane - if you haven't seen it, you have violated the law of things you must do and you must go see it now.)? My baby book is pretty much everything about me from the minute I was born ("They named her Dena Rena? Really?" - anonymous relative comment when they read their house keeper's rendition of what I really was named...which will not be discussed - Dena is fine, or DenaRena, whichever you prefer.) until, well, about the time I was 4 or 5. What I ate (evidently, didn't like fruit at all at the beginning - didn't like sour cream - still don't), my illnesses (I noted that I had regular people colds, but one evidently was "annoying", hmmmm), when I walked, talked, etc.

They stopped around 4 or 5 because, when I was almost 3, my little brother (LB) was born. Poor guy - as it turns out, he got every single cold I brought home from pre-school which all turned into ear infections. Talk about annoying. I bet those parents were longing for my colds when LB was upset about his ears hurting.

While looking for my immunization records, I found myself looking through cabinets, drawers (no worries parents, no real snooping occurred), closets (no, parents, I didn't take home my wedding dress yet), and book cases.

While I never found my immunization records (d-r-a-t-!) I did find many many many envelopes, boxes, files, and drawers filled with pictures. Hundreds of pictures - many not in albums. I found a duplicate ("it's a duplicate", "yes, I know, a duplicate" - A Night at the Opera - Marx Brothers movie - maybe the best in existence) of my parents wedding album. This is evidently what happens, your parents pass on into the great beyond and what is to happen to their copy of your wedding album? YOU GET IT! Hoped you like the day - now you have two sets of all the same pictures. Spectacular.

I found pictures from as early as the thirties up through the last two years.

Here's my quandary - do I go through all these photos now, figure out where they go or wait until I'm forced to go through them all the while being upset that I've been left without parents? will be my job sometime.

But give this some thought, what do I do with these photos? These memories of family from the past? These family members that this generation won't even have known?

Here's what I can't do.

Throw them out.

Isn't that illegal? Can I be left to rot in jail because I let my family slip through my fingers into my trash can? Only to be carted off by a very stinky garbage truck and then dumped into a landfill where it will take eons to decompose and then it will be my fault that the ecosystem is filled with Kodachrome?

I can't handle it.

Good thing I don't have to ultimately worry about it for a long long time.

Oy, I'm already worried about an event that won't take place for hopefully three decades.

And, yes, I thought about this for hours yesterday - so much so that the thought went all the way into today.

Hmmmm, this topic will resurface in June, in Minneapolis as well. Sorry, folks, it's an invite only event and you have to be in the club "I married a, or am offspring of a (insert my mother's maiden name here)" club.

But don't worry, there will be much to talk about after that reunion, I tell you.

Don't get caught by a red light camera; very expensive,

1 comment:

  1. Here are my suggestions:

    1) Pull out only the good ones. Before the luxury of the digital delete, most of the roll on the camera was not too great!

    2) Upload them to Kodak Gallery or Picasa. May take a while, but scanning is pretty mindless. If you need a scanner you can borrow mine. May need to pay a nominal storage fee if there is a lot (for Kodak it is free if you order a certain amount of merchandise in a year)

    3) Give your parents and any other family members the links and have them make comments. Throw in some guilt about the future generations needing this information :) Then you can do the same at the reunion. That way everyone can share them and you won't have to do all the identifying.

    The only wrinkle this is that you probably want to get a copy of the files with the comments somewhere and not just rely on Picasa or Kodak forever. I know Kodak lets you buy a CD of the pictures you uploaded, but not sure if the comments come with it. May require a mass print job at some point, which would be less than optimal. If you have someone with a server and disk space, you may be able to get a web site set up that you control.

    This has inspired me to do the same with some of the family pics I have!