You never know when the last picture of you might be taken. Hopefully, it’s not 5 minutes after you awaken and amble out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth, and gravity working its inevitable magic on your body. But if it is, someone would cherish it because that’s the way they see you every day. (Or from an episode of Cops.) Recently, I was given an undeveloped roll of 35 mm film from 1977. I sent it off for processing. It’s impossible to know what’s on there. I love that uncertainty! What if it is the first picture of someone as a newborn? Or someone’s sibling or parent posing goofily, unaware that it may be the last picture ever taken of them? What value can you put on that sort of picture? What value did you ascribe to your day today? Was it just another Friday, one marking the end of a work week? Time is short. As Redd Foxx said, “…diamonds are forever and so are the payments.” Recently, my cousin inquired and quipped about the possibility of someone taking my picture or writing about an interaction, thus turning the tables on me. I photobombed someone at the store today as they snapped a picture of their manager, who was angry at a subordinate who had texted to say they would not be at work this afternoon. I smiled like an idiot as she snapped the picture. I realized that I wasn’t even impersonating an idiot, given my qualifications. My smile didn’t originate with the anger of the manager. Instead, it’s because I resisted the urge to say, “But did you die!?” Even though it’s a humorous cliché, it does have an inherent philosophical observation.
Love, X
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