Today's nice weather brought Beth and I out to a local beach for some photography. We arrived late in the afternoon as the sun was low in the west, and we enjoyed playing with the light and shadows.
As I set up a shot of one of the seasonally-abandoned arcades, a teenager on a bicycle rode into frame. When he heard the click of my shutter, he immediately shouted, “Delete that picture please!”
My reaction was predictable and negative. The boy rode closer and proffered some explanation about the shot being “bad” and his discomfort at appearing in it. Great, now he's an art critic.
He looked confused when I told him the camera uses film and I could not simply delete one shot. His solution? “I'll call the police!”
I can hear the radio now: “Control to all cars. Do I have a unit free to respond to the Boulevard at C Street for a report of a tourist taking photos in public? Anyone?”
Some days I weep for the future.
Probably on a stolen bike, or running from a warrant, or both.
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