Early in my husband’s career, someone gave him a huge stash of 35mm slide film, so that’s what he used when he took pictures. Free is good. He was still burning through the film when I met him in 1976, but I guess he was close to the finish line, because most pictures of our life together are prints.
We’ve been hauling those slides around for 43 years and have never looked at them. I’ve wanted to do something about it for ages, but Dale is typically resistant to my purging efforts. However, when I was visiting my sister last month, she loaned me a slide projector, and I convinced him it was time to go give it a go.
I closed the blinds in our guest bedroom and set up the projector in there. I loaded the first tray, and I flipped through them while Dale said keep or toss. We didn’t really come up with a good system for tracking which was which, so if he said keep, I pulled the tray out and retrieved the slide. Then we’d resume the slide show.
We tossed almost everything. Most were taken before he met me. There were lots of photos of marginally scenic landscapes taken from the window of a car. Mountains, woods. Darkened living rooms with fuzzy people and empty beer bottles. One guy, Bones, was a frequent flyer.
I said, wow, you wasted a lot of film on Bones. Or let me rephrase that … a lot of film on Bones wasted.
There were a few pictures of Dale that were very cute, but we have the same era covered in our scrapbooks. Same for me, except for the cute part. I truly got better looking as I aged. It was like Dale bought Donna futures.
Oh, and whoever convinced me to get bangs and perm my hair should be shot.
We kept less than a dozen out of several hundred. There were two of his childhood pet, Pussy Baby, wearing a little hat Dale’s mother knitted. I call him the benchmark cat, because all cat stories eventually lead to Pussy Baby.
Other keepers included a few from a military ceremony, a picture of his grandmother’s house, Uncle Harvey by his lobster boat and an image from Little Big Horn, because he said it meant something to him.
Just so you know, in 43 years of marriage, he has never mentioned Little Big Horn.
I’m happy that’s done. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, mostly because we just zipped through them and said toss, toss, toss. I was worried he’d want to hang onto everything, but he surprised me. Dale said he found the whole thing a little depressing – reflecting on an era that is long behind us and you look around and wonder if it’s any better. And the whole aging thing.
I said, hey, you looked good! I, on the other hand, looked awful. What did you see in me aside from my caustic wit and unlimited potential?
He said, “I thought you were beautiful.”
So, purging. It’s not all bad.
Love this post.
Me too!
Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
This is such a great post. Dale sounds like a good guy. I am adopting a rescue cat tomorrow, sight unseen, and I will have to give her a name. Pussy Baby is now top of the list.
Wow, the possible return of Pussy Baby.
My husband has several trays of slides from his service in Viet Nam in the mid ’60s. Only one tiny shot of him in all of them. They’re boring as heck. He doesn’t want to get rid of them although I asked a couple of times over the years. That’s okay, he doesn’t save much.
Dale likes to keep stuff, so this was a big step forward. The good news is they don’t take up much space.
It’s hard to go through – and purge – old pictures, I know. In fact, I still have several that I acquired after my parents died. Somehow it seems a bit disloyal or unfeeling to get rid of them… crazy, huh? Good for you and Dale to go through each one and decide which ones are really worth keeping. Lol your line, “It was like Dale bought Donna futures.” Too funny.
I could get rid of pictures, too, but that disloyal thing keeps creeping up! Glad you enjoyed the Donna futures. It was a good investment!
Good on you & Dale, Donna. Many years ago I was showing off my scrapbooking albums to an aunt who said, “No one will care about those when you’re gone.” At the time, I thought it was a callous remark. Upon reflection I came to realize that there were many people in those photos whom my son wouldn’t know let alone want to keep a photo of. Another experience that fortified my resolve to cull pictures was clearing my parents’ home – pictures of unknown people, scenery from where? repeat photos of annual/perennial plants. So last winter I started to cull my photos – cows & horses, people whose names I had forgotten and some I wanted to, scenery from where? How many pictures of ex-husbands does one need?! It’s difficult to predict what would be significant to my son & grandchildren. They will have to choose from what remains.
How many pictures of ex-husbands does one need? So funny. I’d like to cull further, but I’m going to sit on my victory for a little longer.
I started out laughing, but this is a really sweet post. We have so much work to do re slides…..
Thank you! My sister saved one tray and is taking them to Costco for conversion to digital. We didn’t save enough to bother with that.