Camera collecting is a funny thing. Everything? Only Minolta? Old? (well, of course). Duplicates? Buy? Trade? Receive out of nowhere (I’ve got this old camera – do you want it?). When to cull the herd. Decorations? Shooters? Display? In a drawer somewhere? It’s about the photo, not the camera, stupid! And why are cameras black so they show all the dust? The stories – oh, the stories! My dad’s Balda Jubilette, me squinting into the sun waiting f-o-r-e-v-e-r for him to take the picture; my Mom’s Kodak Brownie Hawkeye, which produced only tilted photos; the Rolleicord later owned by a member of the Dutch resistance in WWII, my first SRT-101. Camera collecting is a funny thing.
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