18 posts tagged “camera”

No, not that big ask.

I'm in the "ask" business. It's called "corporate contributions." People I've never met write letters to my employer, asking for donations. They thank me for taking time to speak with them when I've never spoken to them. They ask for contributions for their school raffle, silent auctions, and tricky tray activities. They ask us to donate things we don't manufacture. And, of course, some just ask for cash, usually in a four-page letter describing every imaginable tragic circumstance that might befall someone.

(Those tragic-sounding letters, in particular, sounds awfully similar. I wonder if there's a website that tells visitors how to grift cash by writing to corporations.)

And, after 18 months of reading these epistles, I've come up with a few basic tips on how NOT to ask for donations:

• If you're going to ask us to donate a digital camera, take a moment to proof-read your letter. Nearly every such request that hits my desk asks for a "digitial" camera. Spend a moment with a Target ad, or even our website. It's digital. Says so right on the box. Use your spell checker! (To be fair, this is a widespread goof; even Amazon.com sometimes botches a spelling.)
  
  

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• Don't try to sweet-talk me by referencing an earlier phone conversation we never had. I'd remember. Besides, I keep a log of who asks for what.
• Ask for something we actually make or sell. Our website gives a pretty good showcase of our digital cameras, printers, films, digital frames, and so on. We don't make LCD projectors, waffle makers, or laptop computers -- so we're unlikely to donate items we don't sell.
• Silent auctions or raffle item requests are fine. But I've made it a policy to flat-out reject requests for donations for "Chinese auctions." Buy a calendar and a thesaurus -- it's 2008, and I'm sure Asian-Americans in your town aren't thrilled with your "Chinese" auctions!
• Most big companies engaged in charitable giving have a page or so on their website that spells out what they will and won't support. If you're going to ask, stop by that website first, and figure out if there's some intersection between what you're asking for and what our company cares to support.
• Asking for cash? Fine. Show me your 501(c)(3) documentation -- or at least, mention it in your letter of request. If you don't have one, don't wait by the mailbox for a check. It's not in the mail.

Do we donate digital cameras? Sure, when the charity's purposes intersect with our business objectives. We do the right thing, most of the time, and we'd like to get a little recognition for it.

That's how it works. So, as those end-of-the-year pleas for contributions swell my in-box, keep these tips in mind. Ask for a digitial camera, and I'll send you a book. Possibly a dictionary...!

These are not my photos.

I purchased a Minolta film camera at a garage sale in Sarasota, FL last weekend ($1, including a snazzy black case and the original instructions). The film inside yielded family photos that appear to be from Dec. 2002 and March 2003 -- Christmas and winter break visits, perhaps?

I don't know anything else about the family. I think the seller of the camera bought the camera at an estate sale and was re-selling it to clear out her inventory.

It's time to start divesting. Letting the children go.

I'm starting to sell off some of my collection of cameras. It was fun collecting them in the era when eBay was a big treasure hunt. But, these days, the fees and restrictions and dealing with "will you ship this item to Neptune?" questions has taken all the fun out of eBay.

And, truth is, I'm not shooting much film anymore.

And there are other signs of change. David Ritz used to have camera stores all over the place. Now, there isn't a single one between Buffalo and Syracuse. One in Sarasota just closed. I'm thinking we've made photography as ubiquitous as the pencil (a George Eastman quote) -- but for mostly mixed reasons.

So, if you mosey on over here, you'll find a slow parade of fully functional working collectables under "photo/video". Some are less than a year old. Others, like the Canonet, have appeared in feature films ("Pecker").

My guess is, I'll probably find good homes for a few of these babies. But I won't be opening the Last Camera Store in America, after all.

This is the flip-side of those swanky new digital cameras that came out at CES in Las Vegas last week:

Millions of cellphones were discarded last year. The New York Times' Sunday magazine has an intriguing story about what becomes of them. It's great reading.

At our house, we've donated our outmoded cell phones to a local women's services agency (such as the YWCA, which has them reprogrammed to call only emergency services).

But, as the king of electronica on my street, I have a few more outmoded digital cameras. A few of them -- 2- and

3-megapixel marvels with great lenses and s-l-o-w image processors -- are collecting dust. (Six to eight megapixels are all you'll ever need. Trust me on this.)

And, unlike the cell phones that we got for under $100 (or even free) when introduced, my old reliable Kodak DC4800 camera carried a $799 price tag (!) when it rolled onto the market in June 2000. That camera still works well, but no one wants one of these relics when you can grab an 8-megapixel bruiser like the one below for $249.

Some of the manufacturers have trade-in programs where they'll give you a few dollars toward the purchase of a newer model when you trade in the old one. But $25 for a $599 camera seems paltry, especially if your old camera still works.

And if you drop one of today's plastic-rich digital cameras, you're likely to damage it beyond a reasonable cost of repair. It's really less expensive to buy a replacement camera than repair one that's more than a year old.

As the Times suggests, modern consumer electronics, including digital cameras, probably have some precious metals in them. I haven't seen the company that's responsibly extracting these metals from unloved digital cameras.

I don't know what to do with 'em. So, there's a file cabinet in my house where this old camera (and its siblings) lives -- remembered fondly, but unlikely to see serious shooting duty anytime soon.

Hey, there are a bunch of new digital cameras being introduced at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas this week! Whoopee!

Here's a brand-new, 2008 model that looks very interesting. High-tech, big, sharp, 12X zoom lens, a minimum of

pointless silver doodads. The kind of camera that wouldn't embarrass a typical casual male photographer. It's black. It'll go with my briefcase. Perfect.

Yet, there's something oddly familiar about this brand-new camera. Photographic deja vu, if you will. Don't I already own this camera?

Why, yes I do. Sort of.

The model below is my Canon Sureshot AF35ML. Black, sharp lens, compact, few silvery frills. Even has the same basic butch hand grip on the right side of the camera.

Except this one uses film, has no zoom lens, and insists that you look through an optical viewfinder to compose your photos. Still, it's a pretty guy-looking camera design. From July, 1981.

In other words: 26 years later, I can have pretty much the same basic camera that's now locked away in my camera collection vault. Only in digital form, and with a zoom lens. Cool.

Maybe -- as Peter Allen used to say -- everything old is new again.

This is important, whether you are giving or receiving a digital camera for the holidays.

Regardless of brand or manufacturer, the LCD screen on any digital camera is the one part most susceptible to damage. It's a 2.5-inch sheet of very thin glass. And it's not the same grade of glass as your typical windshield.

So, if you're not going to use a Delkin pop-up shade (described here), find an old plastic credit-card sized card. (Old "loyalty cards", membership cards, or key cards that I've forgotten to drop off at the hotel desk on departure work great.) Slip it in the camera case so it acts as a barrier between the LCD screen and the case. Or hold it in place with a rubber band.

It may save your camera's LCD -- and since fewer digital cameras have actual optical viewfinders, a camera with a dead LCD is basically a very expensive paperweight.

You'll thank me later.

My luck ran out.

I've had great success buying refurbished digital cameras. Usually, refurbished meant someone had inserted the memory card wrong, or the batteries backwards. The camera didn't work, so they returned it to the store.

And manufacturers take these returned cameras back, get them back to factory specs, and you're good to go.

Usually.

The following images came from a factory-refurbished Canon A570is camera. They're not edited in any way, just resized for the web. You'll see odd lines running through the pictures. In at least one, there's a bit of red pooling on the blue chairs. The overexposed shots speak for themselves. (Despite what you may have heard, it doesn't snow on a 65-degree day in Rochester, NY.)

These are telltale signs of a bad sensor.

Surprising for Canon, which usually has terrific quality control.

If you get these results right out of the box, race back to your retailer and hand the camera back.

I keep asking myself: how can I get back on a motorcycle? Without killing myself -- or having to get a divorce lawyer?

Short answer: I can't.

I learned to ride on Long Island, where the riding season lasted 8 months, and bikes were everywhere. In Rochester, there are fewer bikes, more wet roads, more distracted drivers, and the riding season is 12 weeks. At most. If an 80-year-old driver in a Cadillac didn't flatten me, some latte-slurping jerk in a Prius would. Motorcycles are invisible to western NY motorists. And I don't bounce off the hoods of Buicks as easily as I did at age 20.

This may or may not be an acceptable alternative. A few semi-ingenious motorcyclists have found a way to squeeze one of my favorite Kodak digital cameras -- the V570 -- inside their helmets. Velcro at work! Power on! And off they go blasting around Hawaii, or Missouri. And they post their videos on YouTube.

The "helmet video" concept works because the camera's wide-angle lens is fixed focus, so things generally stay sharp. And it has anti-shake software so you don't get too queasy watching the video. Most times, at least. When the bike pilot jerks his or her head, the sudden swing of the camera can make your stomach shudder for a second.

I like the concept. Of course, I'd need an enormous helmet to accommodate both the camera and my size 7 1/2 head. And I'd need to change the ventilation system, because I'd darn sure fog up the visor and the camera.

Oh, yeah. And I'd need a motorcycle. The one I'd buy if I wanted to guarantee an instant divorce...

OK, right off: this isn't real. You cannot dash over to Radio Shack or Gigantor Mart and buy this camera-phone:

But I'm thrilled with the concept: a camera that happens to have wireless phone capability, instead of the other 'way around.

I have a fairly recent Samsung cell phone, and it will do all kinds of things: play music, calculate tips, and actually make phone calls. But it takes god-awful photos; it has no flash, but sports a slow lens that seems to be made out of recycled cellophane.

Any photographer will tell you that great photos result from three things: being in the right place at the right time. A great ability to manage light. And a great lens.

So, if Mr. Jobs or someone in my company is listening: get cracking now on a real digital camera that does basic cell-phone communications well. I have the cash, and I will gleefully toss my mediocre cell-phone and PAY FOR something like this non-existent, pretend Kodak phone-camera.

Since I'm no longer in the PR wing of Kodak, I feel comfortable sharing this Popular Photography article about the Kodak Z885 camera that I've referenced in a few recent posts.

Dan Richards, the writer, makes a good point: you can buy digital cameras with more than 8 megapixels. But unless you're printing billboards or you crop more than 50 percent of your digital picture, more megapixels doesn't get you a better photo. In fact, unless the size of the camera's image sensor is larger, a camera with , say, 10 megapixels on the same-size sensor might capture pictures with a little less clarity (and more speckled digital noise) than an 8-meg camera.

Yeah, too much geek-speak. I'll shut up now. Read Dan's review, and decide for yourself.