The Camera Builder

Happy Father’s Day to all y’all Dads out there. Here’s one for you.

“That’s some camera, Pop.”

“That it is.”

“And you made it yourself.”

“All those spare parts we’ve been hoarding over the years.”

“You think Mom will like it?”

“I think she will.”

“So what now?”

“What do you mean what now?”

“I mean it is too heavy to take anywhere,” David said.

“Good point. Maybe I’ll just let it sit here in this one place and take photographs of the lawn. It should be interesting to see the changes.”

“So you’ll be the world famous lawn photographer.”

“That’s about it. That lawn has been bugging me since God knows when that I give it a Facebook page. Now I can.”

“Are you sure that it wants its own Facebook page.”

“It whispers it all the time. I’m out there mowing it and it’s whispering, ‘Facebook. Facebook. Facebook.’ You can’t hear it?”

“Nary a word.”

“Your mother thinks I’m crazy. Now you think I’m crazy. But I swear, as God is my witness, it’s demanding its own Facebook page.”

Why do you think that is, Pop?”

“It wants to have conversations with other lawns.”

“But there are no other lawns on Facebook.”

“Ours will be the first. but I’m here to tell you, it won’t be the last. Mark my words.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Pretty soon they’ll start a revolution. Ours will be the leader.”

“Pop, you need to see someone. You’ve been paranoid about that lawn since I was a kid. First thing you were telling me was to watch out for the lawn. It’ll stab you in the back.”

“And it will too.”

“Anyway you’ve done fantastic work, building that camera. What’s next?”

“A submachine gun. Gotta keep that lawn in its place.”