First, I was googling for something completely different,micro SD cards I think, and found this:
I completely geeked out in the optometrist's office. You see, way back when I was an actual photojournalism major I used a Minox B camera. A real life spy camera. There was one photography shop in Houston that sold and processed the tiny ass film canisters it took. They weren't the greatest of quality but it was a real spy camera. Imagine my surprise when googling something else that I found a digital version of my old camera (see above). And at only $148 at Amazon, quite a steal, I think. At least that's what I tried to convince my husband.
This is my Minox B. I have the original box, manual and registration card. It included a flash attachment that used the old square instamatic flash cubes. Remember those?
Ahh, memories. The modern version is all digital, has a built-in flash and is altogether AWESOME. Wow.
After that bit of nostalgia, I should not have been surprised by the trip down memory lane I took at dinner. With the help of my half of a pitcher of margaritas, I somehow or another remembered a moment from my childhood that, with the help of modern technology, was both amusing and sad.
Once upon a time there was this restrauteur in Houston named Sonny Look. He owned a few restaurant's in Houston including one Sonny Look's Sir Loin Inn. It was at this fine eating establishment that my 6-year-old (or thereabouts) self was taken along with the family. The Sir Loin Inn was one of those restaurants people went to for special occasions. No idea what ours might have been or exactly how old I was. Old enough to be a snot nosed kid and not old enough to know better, most likely. At any rate, I ordered/had ordered for me a petite filet mignon. Being the good Texan that I am and no doubt was, I had encountered this particular cut of cow before. When it arrived at our table, I was dismayed and disappointed at it's minuscule size. Therefore, I forked it up, held it up to the world and announced, "What is this?".
While I shared this particular childhood moment of tact with Hubs, I got to wondering...does the Sonny Look's still operate? A quick google search via my phone later, I discovered that, alas, it closed in 1991. But I found a website filled with Houstonians reminiscing about Sonny Look and his restaurants, among others.
Such is life in the connected age. It reminds us of where we've been and where we may yet venture. Use the power wisely, my young padawan. I'm off to prepare for tomorrow's class on "To Kill a Mockingbird" someone (who must be wiser than me) talked me into to teaching at church.
And to sleep off the tequila. Which order these two things occur in is yet to be decided.