Friends. Colleagues. We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of my Olympus E-Pl2 (affectionately known as Olympy, my secret code name a.k.a. “O” for short).
I have to admit I was hesitant when we first met. I was a Canon Girl. My Powershot and I were best friends. I lost her due to a heart failure. There was no way to resuscitate the limbs despite many attempts. I was a widow with no picture window.
But time healed. I got over it and some friends introduced me to the Canon G11. It felt right. We were two peas in a pod. And it had a fish-eye lens. I was swimming safely back to shore with a camera I could trust. After all, I needed a camera on my trip to San Francisco. But friends said “wait until you get there.” So, I did, ready and pumped to meet my new love.
Or so I thought. That’s the thing about love: it comes when you least expect it.
I was bright eyed and bushy tailed. Pietro, who reminds me of Matthew McCongahey in Dazed and Confused, opens the door for me at opening time at Wolf Camera.
“I’ll take the Canon G11,” before I confidently strutted my way to the counter.
“We don’t sell Canon.”
Errrrrrccccccccchhhh. Record Scratch.
“Take a look at the Olympus E-PL2. My sister has it. She loves it and I think you will too.”
I was like a stubborn five year old who felt like she lost her first Barbie.
But I don’t wantaaaahhh, I thought.
I really had no choice. No other quality camera store was open.
But I looked at you. You seemed nice. I didn’t know you. I didn’t want to.
But then I held you. And Pietro began to tell me all of the things you could do for me. So I was warming up.
You were a hybrid between a Point and Shoot and DSLR. Kind of like a boyfriend that was committed but wasn’t pressuring to marry me.
And you weren’t boring! You had all of these different arty modes (I like the creative types): vivid, soft focus, grainy and my favourite: Dramatic mode.
Because what relationship doesn’t need a healthy dose of drama from time to time?
You had HD Video. We could make movies together. We didn’t get to that stage of the relationship. Look around: no sex tape. Who am I? A Kardashian?
I was sold. I took you out and it was the date that never ended. Our San Francisco sojourn.
Our first date was wonderful:
We took the MUNI to the Ferry Building and ate Cowgirl Creamery by the Bay Bridge. You let me have the rest of the chocolate milk.
Then we went to the pier. You were patient with me. You taught me aperture and F-stop and opened up my eyes. We had more fun on our SF journey. We saw many sites and chow-hounded our way through gastronomic delights.
After the trip, we got a bit more serious. We explored my hometown. You never let me down. Our images came out crisp and clear.
People started to take notice.
“Which model do you have there?”
And you were my model boyfriend.
“Oh, the Olympus E-PL 2,” I’d say nonchalantly.
“Do you love it?”
I paused. It was that time. It’s hard to find a camera that you truly adore. Someone who isn’t a fling.
“I do love it.”
We got more serious. We went on more trips. I would never leave your side. You would never leave mine.
Vancouver. Algonquin Park. Turks and Caicos. We had some good times.
And then it happened…
I left you. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault. It was a busy night. It was a messy night.
There was a fateful meeting. I thought you were in the cab and I didn’t know what happened from there. I’m just being honest.
I think someone snatched you up. You weren’t put on the online auction block, as far as I can tell. I ran back to where I was. No-one had a clue.
First Whitney. Now you.
Though you had lots of style, you were all substance. We never got to take it to the next level with the removable lens.
We could have had it all.
I’ll never forgot our memories. I want to be hopeful I’ll find you again. Or find someone like you again.
And if I move on from you in an upgrade or with a DSLR or even a more portable iphone, you will always be my first love.
And you never forget your first.