Reflection 34: End of an Era

December 8, 2008

(Copyright © 2008)

Hallelujah, the Bush Era is winding down. The aftermath will linger like the smell of something rotting beneath the porch, but a fresh breeze is coming up. Imagine, taking a terrible situation like 9/11—and kindling it into a firestorm a thousand times worse! The Bush Era inflicted the warped consciousness of very few men onto the nation and its world by going to war in Iraq, wreaking havoc in every quarter. Headlines in the U.S. played up American deaths, but behind those headlines hundreds of thousands of anonymous others were assaulted, injured, and killed. A lot was said about putting our troops in harm’s way, but it was forbidden to point out that the preemptive initiative had been ours—we ourselves were the harm. The doctrine of preemption requires luminous intelligence. We flailed in the dark. Our executive consciousness met no standard at all. It was based on false assumptions, wishful thinking, denial, prejudice, and a sense of urgency that something had to be done. Something was done, and start to finish it was the wrong thing. Our troops ended up defending their civilian leaders’ arrogance, ignorance, and poor judgment.

 

Which is not what I’d planned to write about in this blog. It just bubbled up when I thought about eras coming to an end. I had to plow through the middle to get to the other side. Such is consciousness. One thought leads to another.

 

My intent is to write about the end of black-and-white photography, the end of film photography, the end of photo processing. All brought to mind by Ellsworth Photo closing its doors after eighteen years of service in Hancock County processing countless miles of color negatives for local customers. Of which I was one. Eric, Mary, and their co-workers processed several hundred rolls of film for me when I was illustrating three books about Mount Desert Island where I live on the Maine coast.

 

It was the current recession, on top of the advent of digital photography, that did them in. People like me fled film photography in droves. After starting out as a black-and-white photographer in the 1940s, I switched to color film and slides in the 1980s, and went digital in 2004. I do everything in Photoshop now, and so does everyone else. Collectively, we former customers are the reason Ellsworth Photo is closing today.

 

Mary calls to ask if I want the aerial photo negatives I left with them years ago. They are shutting down, she says. Yes, I’ll come by to pick them up. After a doctor’s appointment following cataract surgery, I drive to Ellsworth Photo on High Street. My three albums and negatives are on the counter. Right next to an Epson printer for sale. “Combination Printer and Scanner, unused, but has no ink cartridges. $11.11.” What’s this about? Eric says they ordered two identical printers, but used only one. I’ll take it, I say. Most things are half-off. Some are free. People come, sort through boxes, pay, leave. I pick up three free binders. A couple of single-lens reflex cameras lie in a box. What are they good for? I ask. Paper weights, says Eric. I already have several of those. What about your machines? Useless, now, he says. He plans to keep working in digital media, but in a different location. Hopefully on the main drag. I walk out with two packs of archival slide preservers, and the printer-scanner. Watching the end of this particular era—my era—I feel depressed. George Eastman invented celluloid negatives in 1885, opening the way for roll film, movies, and 35mm photography. Why wouldn’t I be depressed? This is a big part of my life.

 

People who don’t upgrade to the latest version of consciousness are stuck in the past. Trouble is, we get so invested in our personal perspectives, we have a hard time moving on to the next thing. What’s wrong with these glasses frames? These shoes really fit my feet. I like stick shifts. I prefer to see how things work; electronics aren’t my medium. I’ve never played a computer game in my life.

 

Eras are eras of consciousness when the world is seen a certain way, and things get done a certain way. We come to expect more of the same. We lurch from one era to the next, always having trouble making the adjustment to a new way of seizing the world. Always feeling things are slipping away. Always feeling sad and a little lost. You know you’re over the hill when you find yourself preferring the familiar to the excitement of the new. Which is how I felt on the eighteen-mile drive to Bar Harbor from Ellsworth.

 

I suppose somewhere there may be people sorry to see the Bush era implode of its own gross tonnage. Not me. My consciousness is not that stuck. Good riddance, I say. Bring on the Era of Obama.

¦

 

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