My Last Polaroid Picture

In the age of iPhones, the World Wide Web and constant WiFi, I discovered the saddest thing on the Internet. On September 30, 2009, the final batches of Polaroid film in existence passed their expiry date. When these supplies either spoil or run out, the world will lose something special again due to technology.

Polaroid pictures used to appear like magic, now they are disappearing forever. Polaroids have always been something extremely unique to me. I was born in Oklahoma and for as long as I can remember, my parents have always used Polaroids. They took a Polaroid of me the day I was born. I still have a Polaroid picture of my mom and dad holding me as a baby, my first day home.

From a very young age I was given my first Polaroid camera. The photo above brings back vivid childhood memories of being at my grandparents summer home in Oklahoma. In this photo I was dressed up for Easter and, as you can see, on my side is my first camera, a loud, clunky Polaroid. But what makes this photo so special to me is written on the back. In my grandmothers bold, wobbly writing it reads, "Mik, Easter 1981."
To look at this memory and to be able to hold it in my hand makes me feel something indescribable. It's a sadness, like running out of gin or letting go of a beloved pet you had since you were young.
Bulky, heavy, in constant need of flashbulbs, this was my first true love. Should ask my friends, they would laugh, but agree, I practically take it everywhere with me. When I was young I even took it to bed.

Here is a photo of me eating an orange; circa 1980, also at my grandparents.
I know I eventually lost or broke this camera, but in 2005 my friend John bought me a new Polaroid camera. In Spring that year I took a vacation to visit my best friend in Los Angeles. Late one night in early Spring, we laid on a blanket on the beach at Santa Monica Pier. It was a full moon and our plan was to catch a grunion with our bare hands. Laying on the beach, camera in hand, we waited in the moonlight. As the tide rose, we waited patiently for the grunion run. As we waited, we laid on our stomachs and shared stories about where we would be in 25 years. It was nearly 2am when I looked out beyond the shore and shined my flashlight towards the waves, "That looks like a huge wave."
Faith replied, "Yeah, it's pretty big, and it's coming right for us!"
And before we knew what hit us, the wave crashed to shore, washing away our sandals, our blanket and sadly, my beloved Polaroid. The next day, I went to CVS and purchased an identical camera so my friend John would never know that his gift was now lost at sea. Today, it's covered with stickers from vacations, bumps, scratches and my name is safely scribbled on the bottom. There is even a tar fingerprint permanently stuck on the front. While in LA, Faith took me to the La Brea tar pits and I accidentally got tar on my shoe, which somehow got onto my fingers and somehow got a hot, gooey fingerprint stuck to the side.
Here is a photo of my 21st birthday. My friend Shaunda served rainbow birthday cake and pink champagne.

Over the years, this camera has stood tried and true. It was always a little too bulky to pack in my bag on vacation, but I somehow always managed to bring it. I usually receive a lot of criticism about this camera from my friends. "It's too big. It's too heavy. The film is too expensive. You only get 10 pictures." But, it's all too ironic, because after I took a photo, they were always the ones begging to shake it, hold it, watch it develop before their eyes. Then, secretly, after all their sarcasm, they wanted to keep it; knowing it was the only one in existence.
Last year, as a Birthday gift, my boyfriend decided it was time to join the millennium and bought me a digital camera. In fact, I have used it, out of consideration, thoughtfulness and overall price of the gift, but I still took my Polaroid on our last vacation. As I was packing, he smiled and rolled his eyes as he observed me packing it under my socks. I coyly replied, "Just in case the battery dies."
In my past thirty years, I have captured hundreds of one-of-a-kind photos.

Birthday parties, ex-boyfriends, distant friends,

insurance claims, pets,

the World Trade Center towers, and yes, even things I wish I had not been caught doing with Furbies.

It's sad to know that this day has come and the last of the Polaroid film is coming to an end. But I am thankful to have these memories, to have had this friend. As time passes, I too will run out of film and I will be taking my last Polaroid picture. And once the film is gone, the camera will sit useless, empty and void of it's heart. However, nothing will make me forget, the hearty sound of film deploying from the mouth of my Polaroid camera.

R.I.P. "Neee-awww