HOW TO BUY A CAMERA … Without Your Wife Finding Out
knapph
Registered Users Posts: 142 Major grins
The following is paraphrased from the book "The Grasshopper Trap" by Patrick F. McManus. I love his books, I just about laugh myself sick when I read one of them. I recommend you look for them and buy a few for your book collection. The subject of the original story was guns. After reading the book, I realized this technique would work very well for cameras and bicycles also.
Although this is written from the male prospective, this technique is equally effective if the photographer is female.
HOW TO BUY A CAMERA … Without Your Wife Finding Out
Most people think of smuggling as a foreign adventure in thriller novels. My smuggling, though, is a domestic foray through the home to get a new camera or lens past my wife.
Hubert, a young married fellow of my acquaintance, confided in me the other day that he and his wife had just had their first quarrel.
“Oh yeah?” I said. “What about?” “About practically nothing,” he said. “I’ve been needing a new lens, so I went out and bought one and took it home to show Joyce. Well, if she didn’t hit the ceiling! Mad? Whew! Can you believe that?”
“That was dumb, Hubie,” I said. “Risking your marriage over a new lens. I thought you were smarter that that.”
“I shouldn’t have bought the lens, huh?”
“Of course you should have bought the lens. You needed it, didn’t you? You just shouldn’t have shown the lens to Joyce. Have a little consideration for her feelings, Hubie. Wives have feeling too, you know. The only decent thing for a husband to do is to sneak the new lens into the house. Learn to sneak, man learn to sneak.”
“Really?” Hubie said. “I didn’t know.” During my talk with Hubie, it occurred to me that there are probably many other young married photographers out there who are equally in need of marriage counseling as it relates to wives and new cameras and lenses. In the interest of averting as much marital discord in the photographic fraternity as possible, I have put together the following primer on strategies and tactics for bringing home new camera equipment.
First of all, let us consider the psychology of a person as their partner brings a camera home. It is important to note that the first camera is greeted with considerable enthusiasm by the partner, and they may even brag about it to their friends. The new camera will be great for taking pictures on vacation and of family and friends. It is important to let your partner know that this is a landscape camera and lens and to fully be able to take great pictures of people a portrait camera is going to also be necessary; at the very least, you will need to buy a different lens. My advice is to concentrate on obtaining new lenses before buying a second camera body.
"Why can't you take pictures of people with the same lens?" they say. "I really think you could if you wanted to."
You will then need to explain the difference between a landscape lens and an portrait lens and your partner will finally agree that you probably do need another lens.
Now that's the typical situation the new lens collector faces. He will start with a base of two lenses, their partner granting them the benefit of the doubt that two lenses are actually needed. After the second lens, the argument that you need a another new lens will be dismissed by your partner with an upward roll of the eyeballs and a big sigh. We are talking only the third lens here, remember, nothing more. If you are newly together, upward-rolling eyeballs and big sighs may seem formidable obstacles, but they're really not that serious. Go buy the lens and bring it home. The eye-roll and big sighs will let up after a few days. Now comes the biggie - the Fourth lens.
With the mere mention of your need for a fourth lens, the partner skips right over the eyeball-rolling and big sighs and goes directly to a recital of your deficiencies of character, weird quirks, and all sins committed to date. They will bring up such matters as saving for retirement, the fact they are still wearing the clothes their parents bought them in high school, the threatening note from the electric company, etc. "And you want another lens!" they will finish, the sarcasm flickering about the room like sheet lightning.
The fourth lens is the tough one, and in the face of this assault, there is always the temptation to sneak the fourth lens. That's a mistake. Your partner's knowing you purchased a fourth lens is essential to further development of your camera collection. Here's why. After you bring the lens home and show it to your partner, they will shake their head and say, "I don't know why you need all those lens." Note that they don't say four lenses but rather the vague and general "all those lenses". Henceforth, they will think of your lens collection not in terms of specific numbers but as a single collective entity - all!
To thoroughly grasp this important concept, suppose your partner is looking at the lenses. "You and all your lenses", they might say, possibly with a very tiny tolerant smile. What they fail to notice is that there are now five lenses! Once the psychological barrier of the fourth lens is crossed, the collection can be expanded indefinitely with the partner not noticing, provided you use some common sense and don't add too many lenses at once. Two to three a year is about right, spaced at decent intervals.
There is one pitfall in this strategy - the area the lenses are stored in. Although your partner will never bother to count the lenses, they will notice three empty spaces. Therefore, you must make sure that there are always three empty slots, even as your collection expands from four to forty lenses. If you plan on enlarging your collection, select a storage area that can be expanded by adding on new sections, so that there are always three or more empty slots. It works.
But how do you get all those lenses into the house without your partner knowing, you ask. Actually, it is all right if every few years you simply walk right into the house and say, "Look, dear, I bought a new lens." "Neato," they will say. "I'm ecstatic. Now tell me, what did you want to buy another lens for when you already have all those lenses? I'll bet you haven't used most of them in the past five years."
"Use them"? Yes, a partner will actually say that. They will not be able to comprehend that you needed the lens because you needed it. They will not understand that you need the lenses just to be there, to be your lenses, to be looked at and fondled from time to time. They will not be able to fathom that you need the lenses even though you don't need to use them. Tell them a lens collection is like wilderness. Even though we don't use all of it all the time, we need to know it's there. Probably it won't do any good to tell them that, but it's worth a try.
About this time is when you can safely add a second camera body. The addition of the second body will help with being able to use more than one lens at a time. To add additional bodies you follow the same path you used in adding additional lenses.
Stating the simple truth often works in explaining an occasional camera or lens purchase. But why take unnecessary risks? Go with your best lie and get the camera and lens stashed in your expandable storage area as quickly as possible. Oddly enough, there are a few really good lies for explaining the purchase of a new camera or lens. There's the classic "A Fantastic Bargain," of course, in which you will tell your partner that the item you just paid $600 for was on sale for $27.50. If their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, you mention that three men in white coats showed up at the camera shop and led the manager away before he could slash the prices on the rest of the cameras. Indeed, you say, you could have picked up five more brand-new cameras for a total of eighty-five dollars, but you didn't want to take excessive advantage of a crazy person.
The "Play on Their Sympathy Ploy" works well on young, inexperienced partners. It goes something like this: Rush into the house wiping tears of joy from your cheeks. Then cry out, "Look, look! A person at work sold me this camera (lens). Its the same make my grandfather gave me on his death bed. Gramps said to me, I'm givin' you ol' Betsy here, because every time you use it, you will remember all the good times you and I had together." Oh, how I hated to sell that camera (lens) to pay for mother's operation! But now I have one just like it! Or maybe it's even the same one! Do you think it might actually be the same one?
Warning! Don't try the "Sympathy Ploy" on your partner if you have been together for longer than five years, unless you want to see a person laugh themselves sick. It's a disgusting spectacle, I can tell you.
The "Fantastic Investment" lie will work on occasion provided you lay the ground work carefully in advance. "That ol' Harvey is a shrewd one," you say. "He bought this classic Lightening Whizzer for six hundred dollars as an investment. Three weeks later he sold it for eighty-seven thousand dollars! Boy I wish I could lay my hands on a Lightening Whizzer. We'd sell it when we retire and buy us a condo in Aspen and tour Europe with the change."
After you've used up all your best lies, you are left with only one option. You must finally screw up your courage, square your jaw, and make up your mind that you are going to do what you probably should have done all along - sneak the new equipment into the house.
Here are some proven techniques for photography equipment sneaking:
The Surprise Party - You arrive home and tell your partner that you have to go to a surprise birthday party for one of your photographer buddies and picked up a special cake on your way home. "Oh, how clever!" they will exclaim. "A birthday cake shaped like a camera!" This is also known as "The camera-in-Cake Trick."
The new coffee mugs shaped like a lens offers fantastic possibilities for obtain new lenses. They sky is the limit with the lens shaped coffee mugs. You need one for the car, for work, and a few extra around the house don't you?
The Lamp - You buy a lampshade and attach it to the lens of a new camera. "Look, sweetheart," you say to your partner. "I bought a new lamp for the living room." They gag. Not for this living room, they growl. "Take it to your camera room and don't ever let me see that monstrosity again!" A variation on this ploy is to tie picture wire to the new camera and call it a wall hanging (this works especially well with antique cameras).
The Loan - A photo friend shows up at your door and hands you your new camera. "Thanks for loaning me one of your cameras," they say. "I'll do the same for you sometime." Make sure your accomplice can be trusted, though. I tried "The Loan" with a friend one time and he didn't show up at my door with the camera for a month, on the day after all the fall leaves dropped, as I recall.
Spare Parts - Disassemble the camera and carry it home in shopping bags. Mention casually to your partner that you picked up some odds and ends from the junk bin down at Joe's camera shop. Works like a charm!
Hope the above ideas are helpful in building your collection.
Although this is written from the male prospective, this technique is equally effective if the photographer is female.
HOW TO BUY A CAMERA … Without Your Wife Finding Out
Most people think of smuggling as a foreign adventure in thriller novels. My smuggling, though, is a domestic foray through the home to get a new camera or lens past my wife.
Hubert, a young married fellow of my acquaintance, confided in me the other day that he and his wife had just had their first quarrel.
“Oh yeah?” I said. “What about?” “About practically nothing,” he said. “I’ve been needing a new lens, so I went out and bought one and took it home to show Joyce. Well, if she didn’t hit the ceiling! Mad? Whew! Can you believe that?”
“That was dumb, Hubie,” I said. “Risking your marriage over a new lens. I thought you were smarter that that.”
“I shouldn’t have bought the lens, huh?”
“Of course you should have bought the lens. You needed it, didn’t you? You just shouldn’t have shown the lens to Joyce. Have a little consideration for her feelings, Hubie. Wives have feeling too, you know. The only decent thing for a husband to do is to sneak the new lens into the house. Learn to sneak, man learn to sneak.”
“Really?” Hubie said. “I didn’t know.” During my talk with Hubie, it occurred to me that there are probably many other young married photographers out there who are equally in need of marriage counseling as it relates to wives and new cameras and lenses. In the interest of averting as much marital discord in the photographic fraternity as possible, I have put together the following primer on strategies and tactics for bringing home new camera equipment.
First of all, let us consider the psychology of a person as their partner brings a camera home. It is important to note that the first camera is greeted with considerable enthusiasm by the partner, and they may even brag about it to their friends. The new camera will be great for taking pictures on vacation and of family and friends. It is important to let your partner know that this is a landscape camera and lens and to fully be able to take great pictures of people a portrait camera is going to also be necessary; at the very least, you will need to buy a different lens. My advice is to concentrate on obtaining new lenses before buying a second camera body.
"Why can't you take pictures of people with the same lens?" they say. "I really think you could if you wanted to."
You will then need to explain the difference between a landscape lens and an portrait lens and your partner will finally agree that you probably do need another lens.
Now that's the typical situation the new lens collector faces. He will start with a base of two lenses, their partner granting them the benefit of the doubt that two lenses are actually needed. After the second lens, the argument that you need a another new lens will be dismissed by your partner with an upward roll of the eyeballs and a big sigh. We are talking only the third lens here, remember, nothing more. If you are newly together, upward-rolling eyeballs and big sighs may seem formidable obstacles, but they're really not that serious. Go buy the lens and bring it home. The eye-roll and big sighs will let up after a few days. Now comes the biggie - the Fourth lens.
With the mere mention of your need for a fourth lens, the partner skips right over the eyeball-rolling and big sighs and goes directly to a recital of your deficiencies of character, weird quirks, and all sins committed to date. They will bring up such matters as saving for retirement, the fact they are still wearing the clothes their parents bought them in high school, the threatening note from the electric company, etc. "And you want another lens!" they will finish, the sarcasm flickering about the room like sheet lightning.
The fourth lens is the tough one, and in the face of this assault, there is always the temptation to sneak the fourth lens. That's a mistake. Your partner's knowing you purchased a fourth lens is essential to further development of your camera collection. Here's why. After you bring the lens home and show it to your partner, they will shake their head and say, "I don't know why you need all those lens." Note that they don't say four lenses but rather the vague and general "all those lenses". Henceforth, they will think of your lens collection not in terms of specific numbers but as a single collective entity - all!
To thoroughly grasp this important concept, suppose your partner is looking at the lenses. "You and all your lenses", they might say, possibly with a very tiny tolerant smile. What they fail to notice is that there are now five lenses! Once the psychological barrier of the fourth lens is crossed, the collection can be expanded indefinitely with the partner not noticing, provided you use some common sense and don't add too many lenses at once. Two to three a year is about right, spaced at decent intervals.
There is one pitfall in this strategy - the area the lenses are stored in. Although your partner will never bother to count the lenses, they will notice three empty spaces. Therefore, you must make sure that there are always three empty slots, even as your collection expands from four to forty lenses. If you plan on enlarging your collection, select a storage area that can be expanded by adding on new sections, so that there are always three or more empty slots. It works.
But how do you get all those lenses into the house without your partner knowing, you ask. Actually, it is all right if every few years you simply walk right into the house and say, "Look, dear, I bought a new lens." "Neato," they will say. "I'm ecstatic. Now tell me, what did you want to buy another lens for when you already have all those lenses? I'll bet you haven't used most of them in the past five years."
"Use them"? Yes, a partner will actually say that. They will not be able to comprehend that you needed the lens because you needed it. They will not understand that you need the lenses just to be there, to be your lenses, to be looked at and fondled from time to time. They will not be able to fathom that you need the lenses even though you don't need to use them. Tell them a lens collection is like wilderness. Even though we don't use all of it all the time, we need to know it's there. Probably it won't do any good to tell them that, but it's worth a try.
About this time is when you can safely add a second camera body. The addition of the second body will help with being able to use more than one lens at a time. To add additional bodies you follow the same path you used in adding additional lenses.
Stating the simple truth often works in explaining an occasional camera or lens purchase. But why take unnecessary risks? Go with your best lie and get the camera and lens stashed in your expandable storage area as quickly as possible. Oddly enough, there are a few really good lies for explaining the purchase of a new camera or lens. There's the classic "A Fantastic Bargain," of course, in which you will tell your partner that the item you just paid $600 for was on sale for $27.50. If their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, you mention that three men in white coats showed up at the camera shop and led the manager away before he could slash the prices on the rest of the cameras. Indeed, you say, you could have picked up five more brand-new cameras for a total of eighty-five dollars, but you didn't want to take excessive advantage of a crazy person.
The "Play on Their Sympathy Ploy" works well on young, inexperienced partners. It goes something like this: Rush into the house wiping tears of joy from your cheeks. Then cry out, "Look, look! A person at work sold me this camera (lens). Its the same make my grandfather gave me on his death bed. Gramps said to me, I'm givin' you ol' Betsy here, because every time you use it, you will remember all the good times you and I had together." Oh, how I hated to sell that camera (lens) to pay for mother's operation! But now I have one just like it! Or maybe it's even the same one! Do you think it might actually be the same one?
Warning! Don't try the "Sympathy Ploy" on your partner if you have been together for longer than five years, unless you want to see a person laugh themselves sick. It's a disgusting spectacle, I can tell you.
The "Fantastic Investment" lie will work on occasion provided you lay the ground work carefully in advance. "That ol' Harvey is a shrewd one," you say. "He bought this classic Lightening Whizzer for six hundred dollars as an investment. Three weeks later he sold it for eighty-seven thousand dollars! Boy I wish I could lay my hands on a Lightening Whizzer. We'd sell it when we retire and buy us a condo in Aspen and tour Europe with the change."
After you've used up all your best lies, you are left with only one option. You must finally screw up your courage, square your jaw, and make up your mind that you are going to do what you probably should have done all along - sneak the new equipment into the house.
Here are some proven techniques for photography equipment sneaking:
The Surprise Party - You arrive home and tell your partner that you have to go to a surprise birthday party for one of your photographer buddies and picked up a special cake on your way home. "Oh, how clever!" they will exclaim. "A birthday cake shaped like a camera!" This is also known as "The camera-in-Cake Trick."
The new coffee mugs shaped like a lens offers fantastic possibilities for obtain new lenses. They sky is the limit with the lens shaped coffee mugs. You need one for the car, for work, and a few extra around the house don't you?
The Lamp - You buy a lampshade and attach it to the lens of a new camera. "Look, sweetheart," you say to your partner. "I bought a new lamp for the living room." They gag. Not for this living room, they growl. "Take it to your camera room and don't ever let me see that monstrosity again!" A variation on this ploy is to tie picture wire to the new camera and call it a wall hanging (this works especially well with antique cameras).
The Loan - A photo friend shows up at your door and hands you your new camera. "Thanks for loaning me one of your cameras," they say. "I'll do the same for you sometime." Make sure your accomplice can be trusted, though. I tried "The Loan" with a friend one time and he didn't show up at my door with the camera for a month, on the day after all the fall leaves dropped, as I recall.
Spare Parts - Disassemble the camera and carry it home in shopping bags. Mention casually to your partner that you picked up some odds and ends from the junk bin down at Joe's camera shop. Works like a charm!
Hope the above ideas are helpful in building your collection.
0
Comments
Anyway, this is probably the funniest, and most truthful, scenario I've read in a long time about "sneaking" camera gear into the house. If confronted, I just resort to, "Hey, that's the lens you let me buy last time, don't you remember?" (Enter the eye roll, followed by, "Whatever.")
Cheers,
D3XWannabe
As a foot note, I have four "Canon" beverage mugs, plus one "Canon" body/lens coin bank, and my wife is OK with those completely. She wasn't quite as happy with the 5D3 + 24-105 & 16-35 and other related accessories when those arrived last month.
"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take" - Wayne Gretzky
(I played it straight and got prior clearance ... fortunately, she seems to like the results)
pp
Flickr