A Broken Camera, Jim, and a Dancing Armadillo
Hmm...I don't seem to be doing very well with keeping this blog going lately. It's been one of those weeks. The kind that is best gotten over and done with and put in the past. The sooner it is forgotten about the better. Let's just say I've had my fill of dealing with certain professionals this week. Professionals, like lawyers and bankers and doctors and real estate agents and insurance agents and overcharging car repairmen and college financial aid officers, have all been a part of this past week for me. I'm tired of filling out forms and signing things. It's just part of life, of course, but I find it quite tedious. I think I need to do some dancing. Well, I'll get to that in a minute.
First, as if all of the above were not enough, I accidentally dropped our camera on a hard floor and have apparently done irreparable damage to it. When I push the button to turn it on, it makes a sad little grinding noise and then gives me the message "Lens error." After giving this message of despair, it repeats the little grinding noise in reverse and shuts itself off. I tried fiddling with it, to see if I could get it to do something other than the above, but to no avail. My husband made an attempt. He also had no luck. So unless I borrow a camera or win the lottery, I will have no new pictures here for you for a while because a new camera is certainly not in the budget at the moment (see previous paragraph). I may dig up some old photos for you, though.
Speaking of old photos, here is one I don't think you've seen.
You may be wondering, "Who is that guy? And why is he holding an armadillo?" Very good questions, I must say. Because of his shirt, I believe his name is Jim, although I really don't know. Perhaps it's not his shirt. Maybe he just borrowed it from someone named Jim. "Why is he holding an armadillo?" I'm not sure about that either, but I'll answer it as best I can.
When I was young, my Dad owned two antique cars that he bought as old junkers and then restored them to like-new condition, part by part. He got those parts by going to car shows and flea markets on the weekends in the summer. Most of the time, he took us with him to these shows. By us, I mean my Mom, my brother, my sister and me.
Sometimes at these events, there were other things going on along with the flea market and car parts sales. Jim was one of those "other things" that was going on at one particular market we went to.
This sale was held at Lima, Ohio. Jim was there inside a fenced off area with several armadillos running around in the grass inside the fence with him. He picked up one of the armadillos as if it were a pet of his and then walked around the edge of the fence. Those walking by or standing there watching him and his little funny-snouted, armored tribe could pet the creatures or at least view one up close. Seeing I had a camera with me, he brought the armadillo over so that they could pose for a picture for me.
I still to this day am not quite sure why Jim was there with his pen full of armadillos, other than that they were on display there like a sort of bizarre mini one-pen petting zoo. So since my camera is broken, you have been given the opportunity to meet Jim, the cigar chomping, armadillo caretaker who traveled around visiting flea markets back in the seventies so that kids like me could take his picture.
See, something good has come out of the fact that I broke the camera. I bet you're feeling pretty lucky about now, aren't you? In fact, I'd be almost willing to bet that my blog is the only place today that you're going to see a guy that looks like Jim holding an armadillo.
You probably know what's coming now. I bet this blog is the only place where you're going to see a dancing armadillo today too. Who else do you know besides me can find their way to a dancing armadillo by breaking a camera? I think he wants to dance to the Y-M-C-A song.
First, as if all of the above were not enough, I accidentally dropped our camera on a hard floor and have apparently done irreparable damage to it. When I push the button to turn it on, it makes a sad little grinding noise and then gives me the message "Lens error." After giving this message of despair, it repeats the little grinding noise in reverse and shuts itself off. I tried fiddling with it, to see if I could get it to do something other than the above, but to no avail. My husband made an attempt. He also had no luck. So unless I borrow a camera or win the lottery, I will have no new pictures here for you for a while because a new camera is certainly not in the budget at the moment (see previous paragraph). I may dig up some old photos for you, though.
Speaking of old photos, here is one I don't think you've seen.
You may be wondering, "Who is that guy? And why is he holding an armadillo?" Very good questions, I must say. Because of his shirt, I believe his name is Jim, although I really don't know. Perhaps it's not his shirt. Maybe he just borrowed it from someone named Jim. "Why is he holding an armadillo?" I'm not sure about that either, but I'll answer it as best I can.
When I was young, my Dad owned two antique cars that he bought as old junkers and then restored them to like-new condition, part by part. He got those parts by going to car shows and flea markets on the weekends in the summer. Most of the time, he took us with him to these shows. By us, I mean my Mom, my brother, my sister and me.
Sometimes at these events, there were other things going on along with the flea market and car parts sales. Jim was one of those "other things" that was going on at one particular market we went to.
This sale was held at Lima, Ohio. Jim was there inside a fenced off area with several armadillos running around in the grass inside the fence with him. He picked up one of the armadillos as if it were a pet of his and then walked around the edge of the fence. Those walking by or standing there watching him and his little funny-snouted, armored tribe could pet the creatures or at least view one up close. Seeing I had a camera with me, he brought the armadillo over so that they could pose for a picture for me.
I still to this day am not quite sure why Jim was there with his pen full of armadillos, other than that they were on display there like a sort of bizarre mini one-pen petting zoo. So since my camera is broken, you have been given the opportunity to meet Jim, the cigar chomping, armadillo caretaker who traveled around visiting flea markets back in the seventies so that kids like me could take his picture.
See, something good has come out of the fact that I broke the camera. I bet you're feeling pretty lucky about now, aren't you? In fact, I'd be almost willing to bet that my blog is the only place today that you're going to see a guy that looks like Jim holding an armadillo.
You probably know what's coming now. I bet this blog is the only place where you're going to see a dancing armadillo today too. Who else do you know besides me can find their way to a dancing armadillo by breaking a camera? I think he wants to dance to the Y-M-C-A song.
