Tomorrow, I swear, I'm going to buy another walk-around camera and will consign the Fuji to the Thames.
I'm crossing Jubilee Bridges. It's dark. Ahead of me I see two topless Japanese males with what look to be some amazing tattooage. And then they both strip to their nethers and stand looking out over the Thames towards Westminster. Now, Jubilee Bridges on an autumn evening isn't a great place to be getting out your nads, not just because of the slight cold but because, well, I'm sure there are laws against it. So, I get out the Fuji and join about 10 other people for a truly once-in-a-lifetime photo opportunity. And the Red Light of Death is on the Fuji - not there previously, it means I have about 30 seconds to get a shot. So I turn the flash on - forced? No, slow sync - I don' t know why, probably my mistake, though why the thing isn't on automatically I have no idea - one of the seven million modes doesn't like it and I don't have the sixteen hours of menu diving time necessary to figure it out - I mean, I've only had the camera two years so I can't have worked out more than half of the variables, and once the battery indicator goes red you are Stuffed. Anyway, I fire off six shots or so and then the clothes are back on, the camera is dead, and the moment is over. And the best shot? The one above, post-processed to death, and looking as if the guys are for all the world three feet from a painted backdrop. NO, I don't know why it looks like that. Either a painted backdrop, or it looks as if I have taken the shot through seventeen inches of bullet-proof glass.
So, tomorrow, it's the Thames for the Fuji and a camera shop at lunchtime (there are one or two left) where I think a Lumix might be on the cards.
One thing, though. It is perhaps the strangest shot on Mrs Lemon's. And a fitting end for the Fuji.