Photographic memory - or not
Today on the way to the office, the DJ on the morning radio show I listen to was talking about how he has very few pictures of his life and wondered if he would regret it later. I felt like he was taking a page from my book. You know, if I had one. Yes, I realize that everyone identifies with radio DJs - that’s a big part of how they keep their jobs. But Chuck (that’s his name, Chuck) and I really are similar. Although all our conversations are one-sided, I can tell that we’d get along in real life. And before this gets any more creepy, I think I’ll get to the point.
He mentioned that while he’s the type of guy who doesn’t mind having his photo taken, he’s not the one to stop the party and try to capture every moment for posterity. I’m the same way. Although I have no problem with being in the group picture, or even taking pictures that I’m not in for other people, I rarely feel the need to document my life through pictures. That’s not to say that I don’t wish I had photos of some of my life’s events, but at the time I didn’t feel the need to bring a camera along, so the decision is moot.
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