As readily available as video cameras are these days, there
are still many memorable moments that pass by uncaptured. I was thinking about
some of those moments in my life recently, and I came up with several that I
thought were worth sharing, some even at my expense. Some of these moments seem
nigh impossible to capture because the thought to want to capture it comes way
too late, or the moment itself is so unexpected that a camera could never be
whipped out in time. Some of these moments I think actually happen quite often,
and may even have happened to you. Some are big, some are small, but I find
them all entertaining.
Thankfully, the fact that these moments were not caught on
tape I think solidifies them in my memory bank way more than if I had actually
recorded them. When we record something, do we make less of an effort to
remember the details, the experience, the emotions because we can just look at
the video or the picture later? Do we get lazy about drinking in and savouring
an experience when we can rely on technology instead? How does that affect our
memories of the experiences? I wonder about that.
Milestones
When Joel proposed to me, we were in Tobermory and had hiked
for what felt like forever until we came out to an outcropping overlooking
Gorgeous Georgian Bay. I was not expecting him to propose while we were away
camping because I didn’t think it was very romantic to have not showered for a
couple days. He knelt down, as is custom, but ditzy me just looked at him and
said, with a teeny bit of valley girl attitude (yuck!), “What are you doing?
Are you sitting down?” Then he asked me to marry him. I wish we had a photo or
video of that moment. However, if we did have video of the proposal, we
probably wouldn’t have started taking photos of us re-enacting the proposal
every year when we go to Tobermory and hike out to that outcropping (which is
now nicknamed Holy Ground).
 |
| 2012 |
 |
| 2013 |
...
How anyone manages to get footage of their baby taking his
or her first steps is really impressive. I didn’t, and sometimes I wish I had
because of, you know, the significance and everything. Seriously, though,
unless you have a video recorder poised and at the ready at all times, how do
you know when your baby is going to give it a go? By the time they take a step
and you’ve fiddled with the camera and have it ready, they’ve probably fallen
over, the magical moment wiped out forever. In my experience with my kids, they
could not say the words “walk” or “step” or “look at me,” not to mention lacked
the general wherewithal to give me time to get the video camera ready before
they started walking. It’s impossible, right? It’s a Catch-22 – by the time they
can tell you to watch them walk, they are already walking. So if you have
footage of your baby’s first steps, then wow, I’m impressed, and I also don’t
really believe you.
...
This is technically a milestone moment because it was the
first and last time I ever brought my car to one of those drive-in and
sit-in-your-car-while-you-wait oil change places: Oil Changers, I think it’s
called. Joel was like, “Hey, you should go! Here’s a coupon! It’s easy; just
drive in and sit in your car while you wait! They’ll do it in like 10 or 15
minutes!”
Yes, that all sounds great—if you know where everything is
in your car and you don’t get flustered when you are put on the spot.
I pull in, and the guy tells me to keep going. I keep going.
Then he tells me to “stop” with eyes wide and gestures frantic. Oh, crap, I
almost hit him, but I slammed on my brakes just in time. He asks me to put my
left and right blinker on, no problem. Then he asks me to put my hazards on.
Um, right, the haaazards—that triangular icon somewhere. But where? I go
embarrassment-blind and it takes me a good 7 seconds to locate it. Bingo! There
you are, you elusive triangle! Hit the hazards, no problem. Then he tells me to
pop my hood. Oh crap. Where’s that lever? I look around, but he locates it
before I do. OK, no problem, my cheeks are a little flushed but that’s fine.
Big deal. I’m just a customer, with really nothing to prove, right?
Then I get to sit there for 10 minutes, embarrassed, totally
“the blonde who didn’t know how to pop her hood” to all the guys working, afraid of what they might ask me next, and
not really sure of what to expect next but like heck I was going to ask any questions whatsoever and
make myself look a fool once again! I vowed to never show my face there again.
The Look on Your Face
One second after carefully applying a coat of mascara, I
feel the urge to sneeze violently. Oh gosh. Wait; how am I going to do this? In
a panic, I try to sneeze with my eyes open wide enough that my top and bottom
lashes don’t squish together and smudge mascara everywhere, but also try not to
sneeze with my eyes totally open (because everyone knows your eyeballs will
come out of the sockets if you do that). I imagine myself looking like a
squinting lemur (with pretty eyelashes),
the lower part of the eye squinted up, eyebrows raised and forehead
furrowed, with a general expression like that of someone saying, “Whaaaa?”
During the sneeze, the lemur invariably phases into a raccoon.
...
Trying to brush a small child’s teeth – When he opens his
mouth (victory!), I open mine. When he moves his mouth around to accommodate
the toothbrush, I move my mouth around. When he bares his front teeth, I bare
mine. I look like a feral dog with a completely contorted face doing vocal
exercises without making any sounds. Why have I never thought to set up a
camera?
...
This isn’t one specific moment because there have been oh so
many like this: Any time anyone tries to get a baby/babies/children to smile
for a photo, there should be someone specifically assigned to take video or
photos of the adults who are
gesturing and making weird faces trying to get the kids to look and smile for
the camera because those pictures of the adults would be the real gems. Who cares
about the smiling children? I want to see pictures of adults making funny faces
and acting like idiots!
Slapstick
On the night of my bachelorette party, I went dancing with
friends. I was getting frustrated, but in a happy sort of way, at all the guys
who were moseying in to our circle trying to dance with us, so I would yell at
them and dance them away—dance with them, while pushing them away. I kind of
felt like the “mama bear” of the group. Then, I fell on the dance floor. Right
on my behind. I erupted in laughter so that I had difficulty getting up. As it turns out, I was definitely the
sloppy Bambi of the group. (Yep, I was wearing heels.)
...
One summer in Tobermory, back when we used to camp instead
of rent a cottage, we were sitting at a picnic table outside. Joel had a knife
and was messing around a little: with his hand palm-down on the picnic table,
fingers spread wide, he was very slowly poking the knife in the table in the
spaces between his fingers. Then somehow a bet materialized—“Ten bucks says I
could drop the knife from up here (the tip about 8” from the table) and get it
to land in the gap between my fingers.”
Yeah, the knife landed just to the side of the fingernail of
his left middle finger. The knife just stood there. The look on his face—hmmm,
how do I describe it: frozen into a perfect blend of genuine shock and sharp
pain—was hilarious. We couldn’t speak for about five minutes, we were laughing
so hard. One of our friends stumbled into the woods, doubled over. We couldn’t
even help him with the injury, we were laughing so hard.
...
At a friend’s wedding about 4 years ago, I was helping Joel
carry his gear into the reception room (his band was playing), and all I had to
bring in was the smallest speaker he had (which was still awkward and heavy for
a dainty person like me!) It’s redundant to the story, but again, I was wearing
heels, and my left ankle gave out, but when I tried to recover by putting all
my weight (plus the weight of the speaker) on my right ankle, that one gave out
too, and so I put all my weight back on my left ankle, which gave out again. I
continued across the room in this fashion, the weight of the speaker finally
flinging me right into a nice group of people chatting quietly.
(On the plus side, now Joel never asks me to help him carry
anything!)
