In your bag 418, Brandon Leung
Todays bag shot is a story. Of passion and perseverance. Brandon has spun a yarn for us to all enjoy. I love it when I get sent things like this.
The photographer was seated in the interrogation room witnessing dicks flying in through the door. Private dicks were coming in asking the photographer,—17 year old Brandon Leung—“What’s in your bag?” These dicks had come in droves, trying to pry the photographer’s bag from his shutter-pressing fingers. But no one could. So they called in the infamous duo, ‘The Two Dicks’, the meanest, toughest dicks in the whole gigantic cardboard box (which this all happened in). They entered, two giant figures that seemed to protrude out of the ground like tall trees, and were outfitted perfectly: they had the same 90 degree slanted fedora, trench coat buttoned to the bridge of their nose, windshield wiper-like swinging cigarette in mouth and face in the shadows.
“So,” one private dick began, elongating the ‘o’. “Why haven’t you let us see inside your bag, hmmm? Drugs?!”
“Well, I have been. But every time I give it to one of you guys, you say, “No! We must make this difficult,” and shove a hand in my face.”
“Then give it to us, punk!” commanded the other dick.
The photographer gladly handed it over, placing it gently onto the table in front of him. The Two Dicks turned the lights off and turned on a single hanging bulb over the table and smacked it. It swung. Long shadows. The bulb shattered. They quickly turned the lights back on and began feeling and moving the bag—some red messenger bag—around the table as if nothing happened, but with the added benefit of pushing the bulb’s shards onto the floor.
“Well, um, so—What kind of crappy bag is this?” asked one of the dicks.
“Its some Jaguar branded bag. It’s pretty good to use and comfortable to carry around though and holds all my cameras and stuff.”
They opened the first large flap and saw two zippered compartments, a big one and a small one. They opened the small one and emptied it.
“And what are these things?” one dick asked, holding some curvy black thing.
“That’s the Olympus mju. It’s a really nice and sharp point and shoot camera and very ergonomic; it’s great to use, my ’35 millimeter’ lense.”
“We’ll see about that when I break it!”
“What other weird things are in here?”
“Some batteries for another camera (Minolta SRT-101), a sharpie, a flash.”
They then unzipped the larger compartment and placed its contents onto the table. One private dick pointed to a block of clear canisters.
“And what the hell is this monstrosity?” he exclaimed.
“A film holder I made,” replied the photographer.
“Film? Pfft! Who uses film anymore!” the other dick started. “We’ve got video cameras in our underwear connected to tiny 300 gigabyte hard drives in our…”
“Shut up, he doesn’t need to know!” the other angrily whispered.
The private dick opened the canisters and took out the film.
“Hmm, Kodak Gold, Kodak Tri-X, Ilford HP5, sound like bombs! We better confiscate these, keep them away from him.”
And he stuffed them into his pants. He then picked up a silver and black item, which caused his arm and hand to drop a foot.
“Holy hell this is heavy—this is a camera!?”
“Yep, the Minolta SRT-101, a fine camera from my grandfather.”
“More like from your mother!” retorted the other dick.
They laughed at the hilarity.
“Good one!” the other said still laughing and picking up a black object, raising it over his head then down below his waist as if lifting a 1 pound weight.
“Now this is a modern camera, nice and light! But it looks like a toy!”
“It’s a Holga 120N. Its creates some pretty cool pictures and its easy multiple exposure capability—which my other cameras lack—is a nice feature to play with.”
The two dicks stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. They took a long step into a corner.
“Do you know what he’s talking about?” one private dick said.
“No—some multiple exposuroser whatever nonsense.”
“He must be on something then!”
“Yes, better report back—we’re definitely getting that raise!”
“Yes, more McDonalds coupons, here we come!”
And they returned to the photographer.
“Are we done yet?” asked the photographer.
“Yes, just stay put as we call our supervisor,” one dick answered.
And the other said, “Yes, ‘Boss Dick’.” He grinned.
(And sorry, but I don’t have any links, but here are some pictures of mine):
Thanks for your awesome story Brandon and thanks for the pics. Keep it up.
There are no links, so just come and comment.
Keep them coming folks, we need more submissions, so get your bag on Japancamerahunter.com. Send me a hi resolution image of the bag (please make sure it is horizontal) and its contents, with some details about yourself and what you shoot. Oh and don’t forget your contact details (twitter, flickr, tumbler et al). Send the bag shots here.