With the Eastman Kodak company now in Chapter 11 Bankruptcy, like scores of others worldwide, I can't help reflect on Kodak's impact on my life. In fact, most of my 49 years have been documented using some sort of Kodak product, be it a camera, paper, printer and/or store kiosk where you pop in your removable media and instantly print photos from it.
The term "Kodak moment" – defined by the company as "a rare, one-time moment captured with a photo, or should have been captured by a photo" – first made its way into the American lexicon via commercials a year before I was born. Now, half a century later (eek, am I really that old?!?), the term has become highly engrained in our culture and used often. These days, though, it rarely refers to something captured on film by Kodak, but instead one of a couple dozen other manufacturers of cameras on digital media.
Kodak dominated the personal camera market, as well as other areas of photography, for most of its 132 years in business. When I was a lot younger, Kodak was pretty much the only manufacturer of affordable, easy to use point-and-shoot cameras appropriate for non-professional photographers. After using an Instamatic through late elementary and most of middle school, I moved on to a Pocket Instamatic for high school.
At some point, I upgraded to the Tele-Instamatic version, which opened up a whole new world by enabling me to take closer shots. It may have cost a little more, but was well worth the price. Plus, it gave me a bit of status because very few others around my age owned such a camera.
Rather than flashcubes, these used the innovative flipflash. Flashcubes had only four uses per cube, whereas the flipflashes had 10 before you discarded them. Plus, they looked a lot cooler.
Like the film and developing, the flash media were not cheap, so I tried to take as many photos outside as possible. Plus, it seemed like out of each package of flashes, at least one shot ended up fizzling out. Well, at least the cameras didn't use batteries.
My next one, purchased in the fall of my senior year, did, but they were actually for the flash. The Tele-Ektra had a built-in flash, which I deemed the ultimate in photographic improvements. What more could I ask for in a camera? This was small, easy to use, had a built-in flash that took only a little battery power and close-up capabilities, absolutely perfect for this budding photographer.
With the Eastman Kodak company now in Chapter 11 Bankruptcy, like scores of others worldwide, I can't help reflect on Kodak's impact on my life. In fact, most of my 49 years have been documented using some sort of Kodak product, be it a camera, paper, printer and/or store kiosk where you pop in your removable media and instantly print photos from it.
The term "Kodak moment" – defined by the company as "a rare, one-time moment captured with a photo, or should have been captured by a photo" – first made its way into the American lexicon via commercials a year before I was born. Now, half a century later (eek, am I really that old?!?), the term has become highly engrained in our culture and used often. These days, though, it rarely refers to something captured on film by Kodak, but instead one of a couple dozen other manufacturers of cameras on digital media.
Kodak dominated the personal camera market, as well as other areas of photography, for most of its 132 years in business. When I was a lot younger, Kodak was pretty much the only manufacturer of affordable, easy to use point-and-shoot cameras appropriate for non-professional photographers. After using an Instamatic through late elementary and most of middle school, I moved on to a Pocket Instamatic for high school.
At some point, I upgraded to the Tele-Instamatic version, which opened up a whole new world by enabling me to take closer shots. It may have cost a little more, but was well worth the price. Plus, it gave me a bit of status because very few others around my age owned such a camera.
Rather than flashcubes, these used the innovative flipflash. Flashcubes had only four uses per cube, whereas the flipflashes had 10 before you discarded them. Plus, they looked a lot cooler.
Like the film and developing, the flash media were not cheap, so I tried to take as many photos outside as possible. Plus, it seemed like out of each package of flashes, at least one shot ended up fizzling out. Well, at least the cameras didn't use batteries.
My next one, purchased in the fall of my senior year, did, but they were actually for the flash. The Tele-Ektra had a built-in flash, which I deemed the ultimate in photographic improvements. What more could I ask for in a camera? This was small, easy to use, had a built-in flash that took only a little battery power and close-up capabilities, absolutely perfect for this budding photographer.
While the amount of photos I took seemed to increase three-fold each year, my senior year by far had the most. Each and every get together with friends, no matter how small, was etched in a minimum of two rolls of 24-exposure 110 film. Contrary to before, most of these were taken indoors. And why not? It's not like I had to worry about wasting flashes, and my job at Country Kitchen earned plenty to pay for all the film and developing.
Through graduation, my exciting summer working at a resort, my year off doing little except for attending weddings and getting together with friends, college the following year and on my own for a while before returning home for a few years, that camera was in tow every step of the way. Lots of fun and special times were snapped and placed in albums that now take up the bottom shelf of my bookcase.
Occasionally, I've paged through the older tomes and wondered, "Now, who in the heck are these guys?" Some look vaguely familiar, others I have no clue as to who the people were or what their connection to me was. I've even tossed a few of these Random Nobodies-Nothings photos – along with the one of people I do not care to see ever again, much less remember on paper – that have absolutely no meaning whatsoever to me, but most I've kept and relegated to the miscellaneous sections of my albums.
It wasn't until my mid-20s when I finally strayed from Kodak and purchased my first 35mm camera with student loan funds. My next succession of about 15 years worth of cameras were not Kodaks, and most were duds, except for the expensive, all automatic Pentax my family got Kent and me as a wedding present. We still have that one, in fact, collecting dust in our closet, still working just fine, ready for someone to replace the batteries and start snapping away.
That one hasn't been used in over 10 years, not since I purchased my first digital camera, a Kodak. That camera, a steal at $400 and pretty much top of the line for the handful of personal use digitals that were just starting to come out, lasted me and later my daughter several years and captured thousands of images of our lives before she decided it was time for something smaller and cooler looking.
My daughters now own Kodak digital cameras, all of which have performed well. While these may not be professional quality, they're great for home use. My printer is a Kodak, as is the photo paper I use in it, and there are no complaints here. I can certainly attest to the longevity and affordability of the Kodak brand and on the few occasions I've needed to deal with customer service, it's been great.
Hopefully the company can capitalize on its strengths and reputation to compete with the flood of companies now in the photography market. I really would hate to see true Kodak moments become a thing of the past.