THE UGLY AMERICAN or WHY I’M GLAD MY PHONE DIED (in two parts) PART 1
In early 2014, my in-laws up and announced that we were taking a special summer vacation. Normally, every summer Grandma and Grandpa take the whole family on a relaxing week-long vacation to their time-share outside of Puerto Vallarta. (Don’t get me wrong Old PV is beautiful and if you ever visit Sayulita, a short drive away, good luck not looking up apartments and trying to figure out how you will get your dog down there.) This year was to be different, however, because – double-check your passports – we were going to Spain! To be honest, my wife and I huddled quietly that night and wondered if everything was alright. Did they have a terminal illness they had to sit us down and tell us about before one last blast on the Costa Del Sol? Whatever. They had a good run. WE WERE GOING TO SPAIN!! (PS My father-in-law would think that joke was funny...)
They had tracked down a week-long rental with several small villas and a saltwater pool, outside of Estepona, a lovely beach town on the Southern coast. We were going to rent cars so that we could travel around and see the sights. It seemed almost too good to be true and I told them, in gratitude, I would bring my camera equipment to do a family photo shoot. Privately though, I promised myself that I was going to leave my “real” camera in its case. I did this for a couple of reasons. First, I had heard scary stories about roving bands of pick-pockets who will throw a baby at you and steal all your stuff while you are trying to catch a flying baby. Secondly, and more sincerely, I didn’t want to be THAT GUY – the one so busy trying to get that romantic shot, while ignoring the actual romance passing him by. My wife
was going to bring a little point-and-shoot camera that we’ve had forever, but not me. Just my phone. Just in case.
Now I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Spain, but if you go out to any little café, chances are you will be greeted with a beautiful assortment of tiny little appetizers called “tapas”. Perfectly-ripe cantaloupe wrapped in paper thin prosciutto ham, sauteéd shrimp & garlic bubbling in a small ramekin of olive oil and peppers, fresh salty sardines sliced sushi-style and drizzled with lemon juice. It was all so colorful – and so photogenic! What good was having the experience if I couldn’t document it?
“Excuse me, do you have wee-fee?” (In Spain, they call wi-fi “wee-fee” which is too adorable to not also do.) Then, with a couple of edits and a couple of buttons pressed, I could share it and then Instagram would push it to Facebook and then who knows what kind of internet fame I will have! Et Voila! The first comment was “Get off your phone. Enjoy you trip.” Oh lighten up. It’s just my phone. It’s not like I’m fussing over my camera.
Then there was the Spanish boy playing with a balloon on the sidewalk while we were eating. I had to get this. It was just too perfect: The cobblestone street. The old men looking on. The bold and daring lines. Out came the phone again. Aaaaand got it. It looked just like that classic picture by what‘s-his- name... That’s it! I had to make it black-and-white! Eureka! Just raise the contrast a bit and then play with the shadows ... no, too grey.... It needs more of a blue hue! And then the check came. Alas, the world would have to wait for “Boy with Balloon” in intricately-nuanced black-and-white... which had only cost me ten minutes I could have spent being present with actual people at a sidewalk café in Spain.
That should have been when my realization occurred. But no, the Universe is never subtle. It screams at you. It has to. Otherwise, we wouldn’t know to look up from our phones.
I was not ready to listen apparently. Still reeling from how impressed I was with my work on “Boy with Balloon”, it was now time for my most daring phone photography work yet - “Kids In The Pool”! Now, before you say “I know where this is going” (...and yes you do), this was before water resistant phones, BUT I had a water-tight case! What could go wrong?
Do I even need to go into it? I will take a moment to give credit to the company that manufactured the supposedly “life-proof” case. They honored their warranty. Once I satisfied the requirements, they sent me a shiny new “life-proof” case which was pretty useless considering the phone that would have gone in it barely made it out of the pool after I attempted what in retrospect was probably a pretty stupid shot. The second I pressed the button underwater, I knew something was up. When I surfaced the screen looked like what can only be described as yellow plaid – and then nothing. Black glass. I had heard about people putting their wet phone in a bag of rice, but even as I was pouring the expensive specialty rice for the paella dish that would never get made, I knew it was dead. The world would never get to see “Boy with Balloon”.