Still hungover from that last Walloon Lake post, let’s start off later 1974 with a random picture of Doug:
As I mentioned in last week’s post, my parents “got” me in July 1974, and then headed off to Walloon Lake two days later for our annual two-week summer vacation. This year, the typical three-family core was sharing the cottage: Goudies, Bakers, and Dunns.
Let’s get one thing out of the way:
I was a damn cute baby
First, a note about the series. I spent last weekend in Rochester at my parents’ house and discovered more than a thousand old family photographs – several boxes of photos that belonged to my late Grandma Goudie (Fran). And oh by the way, there are also boxes with rolls and rolls of print film negatives from my Dad’s early life. And then the front hall closet and chest of drawers full of print film from throughout the course of my life. So I may have to revise my numbering system at some point. For now, though, onward!
Warning: this post turned out to be long. Sorry, Betsy.
We spent some time talking about the early cousins in the last post, and we’ll continue that in this post, along with the appearance of a brother. I guess he wasn’t my brother when he was born? So confusing…anyway.
Things happened before I was born. Long before I was born.
That may be a difficult concept for modern young people to consider, and it took me a while to come to terms with it, but all this photographic evidence eventually won me over. Let’s explore.
This is a new series of posts helping to justify my Gear Acquisition Syndrome. I’m kidding about that part; I’m not justifying my behavior to anyone.
(Unless, of course, the court compels me to do so.)
I do buy and sell a lot of camera gear, though, so when I actually love a piece of gear, I’ve usually tried many things before it. My camera gear love is quite considered, and most certainly overthought and obsessed.
My fashion choices, though not purely my own, were not always the best:
No, I did not kayak the falls. You should know me better than that.
I did not kayak, and I didn’t fall. Okay, I did fall once, but that was later in the day at Lake Julia.
On Saturday, I headed up to DuPont as I do many weekends these days. I parked at Hooker Falls and headed up the Triple Falls trail towards – you guessed it – Triple Falls. As I approached the bottom set of falls, I saw a guy carrying a kayak up the stream towards the falls and thought to myself, “Well, this might get interesting.”
I think that our shelves show some insight into who we are.