Another case of LBA
One of my character flaws (there aren’t many) has resurfaced. I’m suffering from LBA. Actually, I’m suffering from WICATHALBA. Acronyms, gotta love ’em.
LBA (Lens Buying Addiction) is easily diagnosed, less easily treated, if you happen to have a photographic bent. There’s probably an analogous disorder for golfers and fly fishers and other gadgety types. My disorder is more complex (hence the longer acronym): Wish I Could Afford To Have A Lens Buying Addiction. For now, I have to shop, and shop, and shop. Always a bridesmaid, never…
The fruits look so appetizing. A pancake lens. A wide-angle-zoom-macro with large aperture. Something with extra weather seals, in case I hit a spot of rainy weather (or a spot with rainy weather). I’ve purchased adapters for all my old but gold lenses (no auto-focus, no auto-aperture). I’ve learned to do the math in my head for conversion between APS-C and full-frame. I know how many more filters I’d have to buy to fit any other lenses I did buy. I’m pumped!
Maybe I can apply for medication. Something multi-coated. Perhaps eBay will cut me a deal. I’m not beyond treatment. Really.
How on earth do others settle for taking pictures with their telephone? That’s simply wrong. If we were meant to do that, they’d put the camera in the phone… oh. They do? I didn’t know, not having a cellphone. Maybe I can use the “have no phone clause” as a bargaining chip in the next round of CIB (Can I Buy?)
It’s the weekend. Superbowl weekend. I could tell, because the potato chip supplies are running low at my local supermarket.
