I’ve finally decided to spring for a new camera, after months of complaining with increasing bitterness about the one I have now. I’m using the camera so much more these days for the blog, and I’m continually bumping up against the many limitations of the point-and-shoot model I’m using. It’s not the camera’s fault, really. I just want to do things that it was never designed to do.
Part of the reason I’ve waited so long to upgrade is that I haven’t completely moved on from the era of 35-mm film. In my younger days I had a Minolta XG-A that I loved. It wasn’t fancy, but over the years I’d invested in a well-rounded collection of lenses and filters and I took some great shots, if I do say so myself. I was particularly enamored of slides, and did much of my best work on Ektachrome and Kodachrome. After years of faithful service, the camera finally died—a sticking shutter that just wouldn’t stay fixed drove me to fits of some very harsh language. By that time I was in my thirties and had less time for “artsy” photography, what with work and husband and house and all.
So for the past six years I’ve exclusively used a couple of point-and-shoot digital cameras. I quickly fell in love with all the things that make digital photography so great: the convenience, the ability to take masses of shots without having to print them all, the chance to edit in the camera and toss immediately the shot where somebody blinked. I had no trouble adjusting from viewing shots in print to viewing shots as slideshows on a screen. Since I always loved slides, being able to create fancy slideshows on the computer with special effects and musical soundtracks was right up my alley. But now after six years of enjoying the easy fun, I’ve really outgrown the simple snapshot camera I have. I want to get back to being able to control my exposure, my f-stop, my shutter speed. I want to get back to the art of photography.
Of course in shopping for camera equipment, I’m diving deep into Gadgetland, that male-dominated world of violently strong opinions and categorical pronouncements. Go to any website forum about camping equipment, or espresso machines, or stereo equipment, and you’ll find large numbers of men who argue in favor of various absolutely essential features as though lives depended upon their ability to sway you. Budgets can be blown quick as a sneeze once you start reading these heartfelt explanations of why the $400 espresso machine is just a complete waste of money and how the absolute minimum you’ll be able to live with is going to cost you at least $1000. And don’t forget you’ll need a three-hundred-dollar burr grinder with that.
Same with cameras. If you’re at all serious about the quality of your shots, you really owe it to yourself to spend at least $800. And even then, you’d probably be happier with the latest digital SLR that starts out at $1200. Without a lens. I sometimes wonder who these fellows are really writing for. Are these on-line reviews and forum posts just helping them get their ducks in a row for the real argument, with their wives? “See honey, I really had no choice. I needed the digital SLR with the 210mm zoom so I could take the best shots of you and Rover…”
On the other extreme, you have the know-nothing advocates at Consumer Reports, who will recommend anything as long as it has a price point under $300. “These models will be fine for most people,” begins one list of uninspiring budget models. Fine. For most people. But what about for me? And what if I want something better than just “fine”?
If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s collect research. I’m giving myself a week to read reviews and compare bargains, and I’ll let everyone know what I eventually go for. But don’t expect me to write one of those bossy reviews about how this is the only camera that anyone serious should even consider. I’ll let you all be the judge of that. After all, you’ll get a chance to see the product right here at Mulberry Jam.
