My husband and coworkers are probably very tired of hearing me complain about how much I hate this poor camera.
It’s a Fujifilm FinePix S, which seems to be the technical term for “worst camera EVER.”
I bought it two years ago just before Wyatt turned 1.
It was an upgrade from my first digital camera, a small Fuji that is referred to in photography circles as a “point-and-shoot.”
Once Wyatt came along, I realized that I needed something a little more advanced to capture all the precious moments passing before my eyes.
I held out almost a year before going to Wally World and scoping out my options.
Of course, I knew from professional experience that Nikon and Canon are the best brands on the market. They’re also the most expensive.
The Fujifilm FinePix S looked exactly like those models and had a price that was more to my liking.
My little Fuji cost less than $100 and served me well for almost three years, so I saw no reason not to give the brand another chance.
I was disappointed in it almost immediately.
I expected to be able to fire off shots in rapid succession, which is important when you have limited photography skills. I rely on taking as many photos as possible in a given time frame and hoping that one of them turns out the way I want.
This camera, like the point-and-shoot, pretty much requires me to have perfect timing. Not gonna happen.
Then I started noticing that all of the photos I was taking inside came out sort of fuzzy even though they were technically in focus.
I have explained this problem several times to a coworker who is much more knowledgeable about cameras than I am. Even he can’t explain why it happens or what to do about it.
I always just assumed that I bought a lemon until a few months ago.
A receptionist at a school where I had an interview noticed my camera and asked if I liked it. People usually ask that question when they are looking to buy a camera. I spared her my usual rant and simply told her that I did not.
I was surprised by her reply — “It doesn’t take good pictures, does it?”
She has the same camera, a similar problem and a husband who can’t fix it either.
I truly detest this camera. However, my penny-pinching nature won’t allow me to replace it until absolutely necessary.
Thus, I have spent two years trying to kill it.
I have been known to drop it, not from great heights but with enough frequency that the catch on the battery compartment eventually broke.
Unfortunately, that defect alone did not justify me buying a new one.
As if I didn’t have enough reasons to hate this camera, the batteries started falling out at random and inopportune times. More than once I found myself lying in a parking lot digging under my car for a stray Duracell before walking into an interview.
Several weeks into this problem, Zac came to my rescue with the male answer to almost anything — duct tape.
I didn’t give much thought to how I looked carrying around this bandaged camera until I encountered someone I knew at an interview and she joked that it was time for a new camera.
I congratulated her on being the first to notice my duct tape. She smiled and replied, “No. I’m just the first person to say anything about it.”
There’s no telling how many times I’ve left a place lately and everybody there had a big laugh about the redneck reporter.
The snow that fell on Walker County earlier this month seemed to be the final blow to my little Fuji.
Moisture seeped into the lens while I was photographing parts of Cordova during the height of the blizzard.
Later, Zac and I took a picture together that came out white in all four corners. The Olan Mills effect was cool for our family shots, but I assumed my bosses wouldn’t be too keen on all of my pictures for the paper looking that way.
When I realized what had happened, I couldn’t refrain from sending out a mass text — “My camera...she died. I so happy.”
I spoke too soon. Several hours later, I took a test shot of Wyatt and Zac eating snow ice cream. It came out disgustingly perfect.
Well, as perfect as the worst camera EVER is capable of.