Another day of store room tidying left me tired, sweaty and needing a beer. It also included one of those moments where your heart sinks and you feel slightly sick; like when Jock wakes up in the morning next to someone he can never remember meeting, let alone spending the night with. Again.
I have three cameras and too many lenses and I love them all dearly. Keep them lying around on a shelf in this humidity and you will soon find that new and exciting life forms will have evolved on the lens glass. Mould may be scientifically fascinating, but it makes a mess of your equipment. So everything lives in a humidity controlled “dry cabinet”. 46% is the magic number. More humidity and you get wet mould, less humidity and you get dry mould; or at least that is what the purveyors of dry cabinets would have you believe.
The dry cabinet had to be taken out of the storeroom. I opened it, took out the tray of cameras and put the tray on the table. I put the tray of lenses on the table. And I put the remaining two large lenses on the table between the two trays to stop them rolling away. Then I moved the cabinet. So far, so good. Then I put the tray of cameras back in the cabinet. Then there was a loud crash as one of my large lenses rolled off the table and hit the tiled floor.
That was when I had my “Jock woke up in the morning next to what looked like a horse” moment. I picked up the lens and there was the sound of broken glass tumbling around inside which promoted another moment which in Jock terms would equate to “and it appears that I didn’t use a condom; and where did this wedding ring come from?”
This was, up to that moment, my best lens. Fifty thousand baht’s worth of light grey Canon gorgeousness. It appeared that it was now a light grey tube full of bits of glass. I took off the lens cover and shards of glass fell on the floor. I left them for the cats to clear up, this was no time to be tidy. However, it appeared that only the screw-on filter on the front of the lens was actually broken. Amazing, but would the lens still work? A quick shot out of the window indicated that mechanically all was in order; although a more thorough test was required. It’s a bit like when you drop a baby on it’s head. It appears to still be functional; but you have to wait until it is a teenager to discover whether or not the impact has permanently damaged the brain and made it enjoy Country and Western music. Actually, it’s not like that at all. But I did need to test the lens some more.
So this morning I went out and took a few shots. They are finally making progress at widening Theppraya Road. Shop owners suddenly found that the road in front of them had disappeared and, if they walked out of the shop they would fall two metres into the dirt. The contractors resolved the problem by piling earth to fill in the gap. Then the next day they decided they needed the earth somewhere else and took it away. Now the contractors have plastered some cement against the crumbling mini-cliff and given them wooden ladders. Not very inviting for customers and only a matter of time before the whole edifice collapses.
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Behind Bali Hai Pier there is a new kart track, actually two tracks. Looks very smart and tidy, although the karts circulating this morning looked a bit crap. Maybe the karts on the second track have more of an ability to scare you stupid.
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At the top of Pratumnak Hill there has been an invasion of boulders. I was concerned that these were planned to serve as foundations for yet another million floor condo which nobody would buy and would never get finished. But no, this is to be a pleasant park through which you can stroll in the early evening and get propositioned or mugged; or both.
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Finally, a shot across the bay where people who had been dropped on their heads as babies were being dragged along by boats under a parachute, with condos which nobody is buying lie half-constructed on the skyline.
Yeah, I know, boring photos; but at 100% you can read the dart board in the first photo so all appears to be well with the lens. And when we passed a bar blaring out “Country Roads”, it didn’t even twitch.
Comments 🔗
2008-07-26| Jonnie saysFantastic article with great pics, right near where I live. Great! Loved the bit about the condo’s.
Jonnie
2008-07-27| Jock saysHey I resemble those remarks.
However you have, I think, solved a 51 year old problem. You see I always thought I was a bit different to everyone else, shorter for a start, more hair than most 50 odd year olds, albeit greying in appearance, except for an odd penny sized bald spot at the back of my head.
Obviously I’ve been dropped on the head as a baby … must have a word with my parents about the cruel upbringing.
2008-07-27| Spike saysThe rest of us just thought it was because you were Scottish.
2008-07-31| Bangkok Barry saysQuote: It’s a bit like when you drop a baby on it’s head. It appears to still be functional; but you have to wait until it is a teenager to discover whether or not the impact has permanently damaged the brain and made it enjoy Country and Western music.
Writing of the highest order. Made me laugh out loud. I don’t often do that because I’m a miserable old git.
2008-07-31| Spike saysThank you Barry. I write amuse myself, and I am a miserable old git too; so you are exactly my target audience!
2008-07-31| mart saysthanks for grandma!!! But yeah it’s true, Spike provides us with thoroughly entertaining reads day after day!
2008-08-01| Billy saysLet me assure you that being nice to the old git does not work, I tried it once about 28 years ago in Aberdeen, and have not repeated my mistake since. No, try abuse, he likes that much better though you will in fact tend to get it back. Usually in spades and funnier.
2008-08-02| Spike saysI don’t recall you ever being nice to me. Vomiting over my shoes doesn’t count as being nice.