My, how we’ve grown

We better kick off by discussing the “elephant in the room”, which in the case of the 40-150mm is that it is a bit of an elephant; especially in the context of the theoretically “micro” in “Micro Four Thirds”.

This can best be illustrated by sitting the lens, mounted on the E-M1, next to my very first M43 purchase; the Panasonic GF1 and 20mm lens:

The UK Government begrudgingly pays me a state pension and no doubt wishes it could stop doing so, as I don’t vote. Their latest scheme to terminate my pension took the form of a letter demanding that I provided proof that I was still alive; with such proof being required back in the UK some four days after I received their request. They rather snottily referred to a previous letter which they sent me in November to which I had not replied because perhaps I was dead. The actual reason I had not replied was because I never received their letter.

When I bought my first M43 camera in 2009, a GF!, I was a dedicated Canon man with a bag of gear and a tired back. As my M43 collection increased, my Canon collection dwindled; and eventually all I had left was a Canon 1D4 and the 300mm F2.8 lens. The reason I held onto this very expensive, very heavy and very competent combination was to satisfy a need for action photography, especially polo. In the end, I could not justify keeping $10,000 of gear for such limited application and the last of my Canon gear was sold; and I accepted that action shots would not be possible with M43 due to the inability of the cameras to track moving subjects. I did try, with the E-M5, and the results were pathetic.

Then along came the E-M1 with PDAF on the sensor. Completely ignoring my usual ritual of “new camera, take a cat shot”, I rushed out and tried to track some oncoming traffic. The results were promising:

Settled down with a post-breakfast coffee yesterday and she who must be obeyed discovered that The Oscars were live on TV. This was probably not a good discovery, for we then spent the next 2-3 hours transfixed as we watched the evolving car crash that is this annual vomit-fest. Half of the time was spent watching Thai advertising breaks which struggled to last as long as the American breaks that they were shadowing. This was the highlight. The rest of the time I watched with rising contempt and despair as assorted millionaires lined up to praise, weep and applaud each other in an orgy of self-congratulation.

Lunch yesterday was fried fish, rice, and a vegetable that we had not eaten before. It looked like this:

It was cooked by she who must be obeyed, and it was delicious; so much so that I finished off the plate of veggie after she declared herself full.

About six hours later I felt the need for a poo. Quite a strong need, but nothing that indicated that anything was amiss. Settled on the toilet with my iPad, as you do, and prepared to offer a few more turds to the septic tank.