Dear Bag of Defunct Electronics,
It's time for your Last Stand.
You might be better described as obsolete over defunct because I’m pretty sure most of you would work given a proper cable and some gentle coaxing. I’m sticking with with defunct just the same. After all, there might be more battery corrosion in there than I realize.
None of this means you should sell yourselves short. You are all members of a robust and storied family. First and foremost, you’re directly related to the items in The Drawer that Houses Obsolete Cables and Sterno. Other resident ancestors include the rotary phone (still functioning just fine and plugged into our operational landline) and the Panasonic VHS player (status unknown).
While all of this (and more) is represented in the following images, I simply do not have the emotional bandwidth required to unearth and photograph the Collection of Headphones with 3.5mm Jacks or the Assemblage of Really Nice Eyeglass Cases, or—heaven help us—this.
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, Defunct Electronics (DEs), the reason for this missive has to do with the evidence you’ve left behind, namely, reality. Or, more accurately, the reality you recorded as I danced through my life (I am still doing so, albeit with an iPhone 14).
Note to self: Yes, you can throw away the iPhone box, the iPad box, the other iPad box, the MacBook box, the Magic Trackpad box, the other MacBook box, and the rest of the too-numerous-to-list boxes. Throwing away the boxes will not cause your death; it will be fine. You have permission to throw out the boxes even though you will not throw out the boxes.
You guys know better than anyone that I am not a great photographer. I am not even a good photographer. I do, however, have a good eye—sort of. My daughter once said, “Mom always makes things look cooler than they really are.” That’s probably true on account of the way I believe there is something cool in everything, something beautiful, something worthy of love, something that represents who we are. You just need to look for it, even if you have to squint and tilt your head a little.
Those qualities have often revealed themselves to an uncanny degree through your collective lens.
What got me thinking about all of you was this AI image, which fooled a lot of people who believed it to be real. As soon as it landed in one of my social feeds, I thought something was … off. A quick scan of the comments proved my suspicion. So what? People have been manipulating photos for a long time. This was somehow different, because what happened next was like someone flipping a switch.
Every intriguing photo that popped into my feed after that one came with an invisible question: is this real? And you guys? That was the saddest thing.
There are plenty of people smarter than me opining about the implications of no longer being able to believe our own eyes. To be honest, DEs, this new phenomenon fills me with a nameless dread. I’m not sure what to do about it other than hope someone somewhere is thinking hard about how to delineate what is real from what is not.
So there I was with my collapsed belief, my sadness, and my nameless dread. Then I recalled the Goat’s perennial advice: Sometimes all you can do is take care of your own little corner of the world.
Or at least post some real photos of it.
Below is a scene from June 2013. The Goat and I were overlooking the banks of the Cuyahoga River as the new Innerbelt Bridge rose above those troubled and historic waters. It was magnificent, like a towering movie set. And because of one of you guys, I’ll never forget the way it looked.
At some point, every one of you got dragged along to a county fair.
The Fire Ball may frame this next shot from 2014, but it’s really about those girls. They are so beautiful. They are so vulnerable. I hope they’re all living happily through their twentysomething years, and that they’ve managed to keep the usual demons at bay.
In August of the same year, the Gay Games were held throughout Northeast Ohio. This photo captures much of how I felt at the associated events. I remember when my teen daughter and I blinked back tears during the ballroom dancing competition, or the pride that washed over me when I took the photo below during the rodeo games.
All of it was infused with the unfettered joy of people doing what they love without fear, and no artificial image could ever come close to conveying it.
I’ve tried to be a proper steward of your legacy. When I posted your images, they were mostly untouched save for a crop here, a straightening there, and maybe a tweak on the color or light exposure. As for the words that went along with them, they were as honest as the photos.
So this is how, my defunct friends, I honored you the best way I knew how. And whatever the device may be, I’ll continue to do so, at least until I’m tossed into a bag of defunct humans.
Love, Erin
ps: Regarding my daughter’s assertions that I make “things look cooler than they really are,” perhaps it’s some sort of unique Erin filter—my very own AI, one that is neither artificial or intelligent, just sort of … mystical? You are the one group of entities that might be able to answer that question. Alas, you cannot talk.
pps: I reluctantly obtained my first iPhone (a 6S Plus) in June 2016 in preparation for the Republican National Convention held here in Cleveland. I did not replace that unit until September 2023.
And don’t worry, the iPhones are doing fine when it comes to finding the love.
ppps: When I do get thrown into that bag of defunct humans, I’ll try to find everyone’s cable and give them some gentle coaxing.
