The Brick and I

Local Devoted Readers will recognize the delapidated sign of the Chinook Motel, one of our more appealing local landmarks, right up there with Delaney's, scene of general mayhem and law-breaking. Pitbull puppies are for sale in room 221. The paint, as you can see, is peeling from the sign and at night some of the neon lights don't work so it reads "C-inook Mot-l." It does, though, feature cable TV and $ nice rate.

Earlier this week I acquired a pre WW-II Argus C3 (possibly a C2, the exact model depends upon the serial numbers) 35 mm camera from the same antique store where I picked up the Argus 40 TLR the week previous. After doing some research I discovered that the Argus C2/3 was a swellegant camera with a crystal clear, razor sharp 50mm lens. Returning to the antique store I check the ten shutter speeds, figured out how to adjust the aperture, made sure the rangefinder worked and purchased the camera for $20. Next I bought some film, loaded it up and began to take some photos.

One thing I hadn't properly researched was how to advance the film. I was turning the wind-up knob and meeting resistance. So I kept turning the wind-up knob (this is really a silly thing to do, by the way) and got the film to advance but I had no idea how far to advance it and after taking five photos I realized that something was not right, that the crunching noise I was hearing was not supposed to happen and that I ought to stop. So I returned home, resumed my research and discovered how to operate the film advance release knob. The results from the Argus 40 and the C3 are in this Flickr set.

The Argus C3 became the ubiquitous 35mm camera after WWII. It was simple to use, took crisp, clean photos and its heavy, boxy shaped earned it the nickname "The Brick." If the Argus C3 hadn't caught on the way it did, we might still be using 620 and 127 film today.

The next day I took the camera to work with me and spent part of my lunch hour rephotographing things I'd photographed the day before assuming, correctly as it turned out, that those images would be hopelessly overlapped and double-exposed. Since I was released from work early, I headed off to the Chinook Motel to photograph its wondrous sign. I parked around the corner in a nicer neighborhood and headed to the Chinook. Owing to the bad character of the place, I wanted to quickly photograph the sign and leave unnoticed and unimpeded. People in these kinds of places get itchy when cameras are being used, and usually with good reason.

Suddenly a little purple car pulled off the street and into the parking lot in front of me. It turned out to be my friends Holly and Teresa who were going to dinner and happened to see me out of my usual milieu and were curious and concerned as to what I was up to. We chatted for afew minutes and Holly and Teresa headed off and I took my photograph and departed.

Many years ago my parents and I spent a week in San Antonio, where we once lived. My parents were visiting their stock broker and I was visiting friends. Camera in tow, I particularly wanted to visit the seedy Austin Highway area with its dive bars and $ nice rate motels which were perfect for photography. I found one particularly seedy motel, pulled in, jupmed out with my camera and proceeded to begin taking photos. The next thing I knew, two huge biker guys came out from the "office" and stood glowering at me from about six feet away. It wasn't a subtle hint they were making, so I jumped back in my car and headed for safer parts of town. I would like to go back and take another photo of the Chinook Motel's sign, but I might be pushing my luck so I'll be content with what I have.

Yesterday I took my Ansco Panda and the Argus 75 out to town and back. The Ansco Panda is a completely charming little camera and the Argus 75 is completely funtional. When one first puts a roll of film through a newly acquired vintage camera, one is figuring out the quirks of the camera: what it's focus range is, what it's quirks are, under what conditions does it work best and so on. I try not to take photos of anything transitory, preferring to photograph houses, barns and things I can return to later when I know what's going on with the camera. I think I got some good photos, but we'll see tomorrow afternoon.