a rare find

Like a good sales person, I always listen to the customers and sales people next door to the fudge shop. I saw this whole family come in and start chatting with the girl next door. I heard her polite, shocked expressions and wondered what was going on. I could hear everyone except a little, older lady and she was the one doing most of the talking. All I knew was that there was a secret. Being a fairly normal person, I wanted to know what the secret was, so I listened more carefully. It was to no avail. I would have to wait until they came into my shop and see if it came up in conversation.

I only had to wait a few minutes and then they came right over to the shop. The family pack was led by the older lady. She marched right up o my counter as I asked her how she was doing. She told me, “I’m doing well today! You wanna know something? I’m 105 years old.” Her daughter quickly interjected, “Mother, you’re not 105 yet. Not until next week. Quit lying to all these young people!” The mother winked at me and leaned up to the counter to get as close to me as she could. She asked me, “You wanna know my secret?” It was obvious that I was going to hear either way and I was curious to know what she would say. “I’m Irish.”  What do you even say to that? I nodded and said “ahhhhh” knowingly.

Come to find out, the woman’s three children with her that day were all in their 80’s. It was incredible! I would have guessed all their ages to be at least 10 years younger than they were. (I considered asking the mother if I could see her ID, but then I decided I better not.) The mother did not even use a cane. She told me that her other secrets were not having a doctor and not being on any medications. She has no fear of sugar problems either---I sold her a bit of chocolate.

In other random news, I’ve been testing tourists again recently to see how well they listen. Three or four out of dozens have passed. The number of people who gratefully eat chocolate that I describe as being made with dead flies, potting soil, or black squirrel droppings is high.

tips for touring

I recently observed some case studies at the shop that were very educational. I have a few tips on what to say and who to bring for any of you that may be touring in the next few months.

1.            If you are touring in an area far from home, chances are that you will have a very different accent than the people you come into contact with. Accents are a beautiful thing; however, if the people you are around have a hard time understanding you, it might not be the best time to joke around too much. Yesterday, a woman who I would guess to be from Korea was in the shop. She was the sweetest customer we had met all day and brought a smile to my face as soon as she walked in the door. She was being waited on by one of the salespersons while I was cleaning tools. I could hear everything she said, but it was very difficult to understand her because of her accent. Towards the end of her sale, I saw her digging in her purse, and then she looked at the girl waiting on her and said, “I not pay you, ok?” She had a big grin on her face and then added, “Maybe I can’t find my money, so I just walk out, ok?” I figured out that she was saying all of this in jest, but the poor girl waiting on her was perplexed. The woman somehow thought it was funny that the girl didn’t understand her, or else she didn’t realize how hard it was to understand what was going on. She kept right on going, packed up all her belongings and got ready to leave. The girl at the counter looked over at me desperately, not quite sure what to do. Our customer finally set her stuff down again, and grinned and said, “Ok, I pay you now. haha!”

2.            Beware of taking hovercraft-parents on vacation with you. Parents and in-laws are a wonderful thing. However, when you are married and have anywhere from 2 to 5 children, that’s usually a good time for parents to realize that their grown children are adults and are capable of speaking for themselves. A family of 6 came into the shop yesterday. It was a man, his wife, and three kids plus the woman’s mother. They looked around for quite some time and then finally made their way to the fudge counter. The mother/grandmother saw the chocolate walnut and had to have a sample. I gave her a piece and she chewed it right up with great conviction. After a contented sigh, she loudly proclaimed that she wanted a slice. “But ONLY one slice.” I got her the slice, boxed it, and completed the sale. Her daughter and her husband came to the counter a minute later and were looking at the flavors. The mother loudly squeezed into the family bubble (between her daughter and her husband) and pointed at the chocolate walnut. She loudly told them, “You have to try that one. It’s the one you want to buy.” Then to me she said, “Package up a slice of that for them. It’s what they are going to buy.” I graciously ignored her and focused on the others who were talking to me about other chocolates. The woman kept interrupting and insisting, “You just need to package up a slice of chocolate walnut. I know it’s what they are going to buy.” I continued to try to focus on the others and politely hint to the woman that I was not in the business of taking orders from her for all my other customers. Finally the couple tried a sample of the chocolate walnut, and they told me that they would take one slice of chocolate walnut. The mother loudly gets right up in my face and told me, “I told you they wanted chocolate walnut. You could have saved us all time if you had listened to me in the first place. She’s MY daughter and I know her better than HE (gesturing to her son-in-law) does!” I wished they had chosen chocolate pecan.

Another case of a helicopter parent happened shortly after the previous one. A family of 5 or 6 plus the wife’s mother came in for fudge tasting. It made me realize that some parents-in-laws don’t like their sons-in-law. (No wonder there are so many crude jokes on this topic. Watching these people, I suddenly understood why all of those got started.) The entire time they were in the shop, the mother-in-law was complaining to her daughter about her stupid husband. He evidently never purchased anything that pleased his mother-in-law. And it wasn’t that he was getting things for her. It was what trinkets he bought for his family. They were all “stupid and a waste of money!” The girl at the fudge counter interrupted her complaints to offer the ladies a sample of fudge. The mother replied, “No, I don’t think we should. If we do, it will tempt her husband (gesturing to her daughter) to buy some and it’s more junk that we don’t need. Besides, he needs to watch what he eats. It’s too many calories.” Looking at this woman, I was a little annoyed with her that she would have the nerve to comment on her son-in-law’s weight when he was a very fit, athletic looking gentleman. She looked like she needed lose 20 pounds so she could go hiking without having a heart attack. Shortly after that, the family packed up and walked out the door. As they left, the woman turned and yelled back over her shoulder with a big smile on her face, “I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your day!!” Such irony.

3.            English is an interesting language. It has many words from other languages. Some of our spellings are rather unique. However, after dealing with all of that since I started to learn to read, I rarely think about it that much. I heard a most un-intellectual discussion on this topic the other day. Three high school-aged teens came into the shop and were reading all of the Jelly Belly flavors. (The shop has every flavor of Jelly Belly available.) One of the guys got down to the flavor Island Punch. He was looking at it, reading it aloud several times, and finally blurts out, “There’s a misspelling on this flavor tag! The word ‘Island’ is incorrect.” His companions told him how stupid he was for not knowing that the word ‘island’ had a ‘s’ in it. The guy was shocked that he had been wrong—I guess it doesn’t happen often that he’s wrong—and he then walked around the shop repeating the spelling of the word over and over. Finally he came up to the counter and said, “Our language needs words like ‘island’ so it’s not simple—it’s complex!” He walked away before I could think of a response.

passing through

Being a people-lover does not mean you don’t appreciate those that merely walk into the shop and then walk out five minutes later—never to be seen again by your eyes. Often times, you will be grateful that you never see them again because you could never look that person in the eye without having to analyze them to give a final attempt at understanding their internal processor. Recently, I’ve had several individuals come in that baffled me completely. Here are a few stories of these memorable individuals.

A few days ago, a woman walked into the fudge shop and was completely excited at the sight of fudge. She was carefully reading each sign, “oooing” and “ahhing” over each delectable flavor of fudge. Several of her friends followed her into the shop a minute later, and of course, the noise level quadrupled as they all raved over the appearance of chocolate. It seemed like their lives were all fulfilled. Chocolate was before them, what more could they ask for? I can think of one thing they could ask for—a chance to forget the diet they were each on. Slowly, they all started walking away, bemoaning the fact that they couldn’t justify fudge. Interestingly, they left behind the first woman who had come in. She still stood at the counter, drooling at the sight of the chocolate. I offered her a sample, but she told me “no thank you.” A few minutes later, my assistant came back from a break, and saw this woman at the counter that I was apparently ignoring. She washed her hands and walked right to the counter and asked, “May I get you a sample?” The woman looked at her with a surprised expression and told her, “No, thank you, but I don’t like fudge at all! I don’t know how anyone can eat all that sweet stuff!!” She then turned, and walked out.

A man came into the shop carrying his son. The little boy must have been about 6 months old. Certainly no older! The father was carefully studying the fudge product and holding the little boy over his shoulder. I walked up to the counter and greeted them and then asked (while making eye-contact with the man), “Would you care for a sample of fudge, sir?” The man looked at me with the most perplexed look on his face, and took the little boy down where he could see his face and then looked back at me and said, “No thanks, I think he’s too young to have fudge.” I’m not sure if I really seemed that stupid to the man, but why would I offer a child that young a piece of chocolate even if I were stupid? I didn’t express that thought though, seeing that the customer is always right. I humored the guy and said, “Oh, ok. Would you like one then?” He turned me down in fear his wife would hear about it from him and want to come get some.

Another customer that had me completely confused was one that came in and told me that he’d seen a sign somewhere that we had imported chocolate. I explained that our cocoa was not American, that we shipped it in from outside the US. He took a look at the fudge case then and asked, “So do you make all of the fudge here then?” I told him yes, and he fired right back, “Then which fudge did you import? Your sign said you had imported chocolate.” I went back to the cocoa story and explained how we shipped our cocoa over from Europe. That seemed to make sense to the man. “Oh, so you use imported cocoa in the chocolate you make here.” Yes! He got it… so I hoped. Wrong. “So, do you import any of these fudges then? The sign said imported chocolate…”

Often, tourists will ask how to get to the beach of Lake Michigan. I’ve given directions to the beach so many times I think I could do it in my sleep. The best though is when you get people who have no clue how to handle directions like “go south on this road, turn right onto that road, turn left on that road, and then turn right into the beach park’s parking lot.” (I do use the actual street names.) Recently, I had some very directionally challenged people come ask for directions to the beach. They seemed determined to get these directions to stick in their head. (They didn’t want to write it down.) I gave them, very clearly, and they interrupted me at every breath I took to rehash everything up to that point again. They were not getting it at all. I kept trying again and again, but it was useless. Finally I had two others that were working help me out and try to get them there. That merely confused them more. Finally the guy put his hand up and said, “It’s ok, we’ll figure it out. We’ve got a GPS, and we looked it up on google maps and according to that, the GPS is correct, so we’ll just follow that. We just weren’t sure if it was the best route.”

My favorite tourist quote: “Does the altitude change here?”

signs

Everyone enjoys a good laugh from time to time. I enjoy spending time with people with a sense of humor. When I can’t get a good laugh with another person, I read the good ol’ comics such as the Peanuts, Heathcliff, or Garfield. (I actually collect the comic books from these three comic strips. I often go to sleep reading them at night.)

At the shop, my boss (who has a great sense of humor) hangs signs on the walls that are humorous. Rather, they were funny for the first week. When you come in to work multiple days a week for several summers in a row, the humor in them fades. It becomes a “nice saying” or something. I never laugh at them on my own anymore. The tourists coming through laugh about them all the time though. For some reason, tourists seem to have the idea that if it is hanging on my wall, I have not read it yet. So these signs are read to me by kind customers ever day.

A couple weeks ago, two people came into the shop. A woman that I would estimate to be around 50 years old brought in her grandmother. The grandmother must have been at least 90 and she was very deaf. After getting into the shop, the lady needed to sit and rest for a few minutes. As she sat there, her granddaughter decided to read all the signs on the walls to her grandmother. It wouldn’t have been a problem if the lady was able to hear more easily, but instead, it made for a most interesting few minutes. The granddaughter was close to shouting out what each sign said. My favorite was one of our less humorous signs which reads “Fudge is best when purchased in LARGE quantities.” (At first, I thought it was a good sign, but after time, it just wasn’t that funny. It hangs on the wall, and I could care less about it.) The granddaughter read it aloud and the said, “Grandma! Did you see that sign?” She then proceeded to read it. Her grandma looked at her and loudly said, “HUH???” The lady read the sign again a couple more times, louder, but still to no avail. By this time, there were quite a few people in the shop browsing around watching the candy making process. (At the time, I was washing a table.) Finally, the lady shamelessly yelled at the top of her lungs, “FUDGE IS BEST WHEN PURCHASED IN LARGE QUANTITIES!!” Everyone in the shop stared at her, a little bit shocked at her yelling. I thought it was pretty funny. The little old lady started giggling like a little schoolgirl because she thought it was funny. Then she responded by asking, “Fudge is best when purchased in what??”

Also fairly recently, we had an adult day-care group come in. They were all people who had a special need of one sort or another. I love to work with these people, but it can be hard because I have to be careful about allowing them to sample candy. I never know if someone is allergic to an ingredient, and I don’t know that I can trust them to know about their own allergies. This particular group had about 15 people and was very rambunctious! I was making candy at the time, so we had a good visit while I worked on that. Their group leader was a most interesting person. At first, I was not sure if she was the leader or not, but after watching her moving the people around, I finally decided that she must be in charge. After I finished making the candy I was slicing the fudge and she was trying to ask me a question but she didn’t seem quite able to get it out. As she would be asking her question, she would stop midsentence to read one of the signs on the wall aloud. Her question proceeded as follows. “Sir? Can you tell me—‘do not attempt this at home’—how do you know when you’re slicing the fudge—‘will trade fudge for cold beer’—if you’re accurate in guessing—‘fudge makes the world go ‘round’—how thick each slice should be?—‘fudge is best when purchased in LARGE quantities.’” After making it all the way through the question—at long last—she turned and started to move her group outside to go somewhere else without waiting for a reply. Was this woman a severe case of ADD? How did she get to be in charge of a group of 15 people that need a constant eye on them and keep track of each of them? I was absolutely perplexed by our meeting.

I suppose those signs do still hold humor in them for me at times. It just takes the right person reading it to make it come alive again for me. I will never forget the time I sold one of the signs to a random customer who thought it was so funny that they wanted to hang it on their wall at home. I sold the sign for 50 cents. (It is plain text printed on white computer paper. There was nothing special about it except the fact that I autographed it for the person. Perhaps it was a special keep-sake?) I can assure you, you will never find one of those signs framed, hanging over the top of my fireplace in my living room.

people watching

If I had to sum up my reasons for loving my job, I think what I love most is the people I meet. People are the most interesting creatures on this beautiful planet! Each person is so different from another. Everyone has a different appearance, style, personality... you name any trait, and someone out there has it. With a huge overturn of people touring the shop I work in every day, I think I get to see a fair number of people that are running around out there.

In a matter of a week’s time, I would guess that I meet people from at least 20 states, and 4 or 5 countries. Americans are particularly interesting because there is such a vast number of cultures and ethnic groups that live here in the United States. When you compare the size of a European country to the United States, the size difference is incredible! Each of our states is big enough to be a country on its own. (A few could be more than one country! For example, MI is enough to be three countries. The “UP” [upper peninsula] could be one, the majority of the lower peninsula is another, and Detroit and its suburbs is the third—or at least politically that’s how it appears to be when voting time comes ‘round. And Detroit carries us all through.) As an American, I’m used to the concept of a big country. I look at a map and I see our entire country and I know that it is all part of the United State, but when I travel, it is amazing to see how different each region of the country is. The number of subcultures is incredible within this single country. Sometimes, I’m not sure if I really am in the same country as I travel.

A great challenge to me as I meet all these people from various parts of the country is to be able to relate to them somehow. If I can strike up a conversation of some sort, it is a great first step to building a relationship with a potential customer. Even if I don’t make a sale, the reputation of the business is still there to be up-held, and a good salesperson is friends with anyone who walks in the door. As I meet all these people, I find it interesting to guess within the first 3 or 4 seconds where I think they are from and then later ask them to see how close I was. (I’m very good at knowing people from nearby states such as Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio. I also can usually tell when someone is from Tennessee, Texas, or California. For some reason, those states are easier to recognize for me.)

As I people watch, I find myself keeping track of things like general politeness. After each child receives a sample of chocolate, their parent will always ask, “What do you say to the man?” A half-hearted, full-mouthed reply comes back, “thank you.” After they said it, you have to windex the glass because of the chocolate saliva that just sprayed, but that’s ok. Another thing I watch for is how many people drop their sample on the floor and try to pick it up. If they pick it up, they are going to expect me to take it in my hand—and then get them their next sample. Gross!! (I usually laugh and tell them that “the shop dog will come get it. You can leave it on the floor.” 2 minutes later, my smirking, panting assistant sweeps it up with our “yellow corvette” [aka the broom].)

Style or fashion is fascinating. I rarely notice people who are dressed well merely because that’s “normal.” But abnormalities, such as tourists wearing sweatpants in 90 degree weather, I notice that. I am always curious to see what kind of personality prefers to wear thick, heavy clothing in hot, humid weather. My favorite thing to watch for is hats. I rarely wear a hat, but when I am traveling around and spending a lot of time in the sun, I will wear one sometimes. I usually sport my orange Detroit Tigers hat. I feel pretty normal in that. (All normal people are fans of the Detroit Tigers, right?) It seems that baseball caps are a fad that is fading out though. It used to be that everyone that wore a hat was wearing a baseball style cap with the name of the resort they stayed at last summer. My favorite is seeing elderly ladies who are more of a “straw hat style” wearing a baseball cap. It seems to add a certain spunk to their personality. It always makes me smile inside.

Lastly, I enjoy hearing what customers say to my coworkers at the counter. Most of their comments are very predictable and we hear them many times a day. Dieting is a major trend right now (in case you didn’t know). I have yet to understand how someone is going to gain 5 pounds from one sample, but there are many ladies who are certain they will. Many elderly people who come through often cannot have candy because they are either diabetic or they have fragile teeth that they cannot use to chew nuts. There was a gentleman in the shop today that told my assistant something about the fudge that was very interesting I thought. He said “when you’re young you can’t afford it, but when you’re old you can’t eat it.” So true!! While I know we have a quality product, I’m not sure if right after I graduate from college that I would be able to afford fudge when it is not necessary to life. (Or is it??) Either way, as a salesperson, while it’s tempting to prey on the “middle aged” people, I will continue to serve all ages at the counter.

Sometimes it can be hard to work with so many different people who are from different cultures. Trying to connect and not say anything that would do less than improve your relationship can be exciting at times. I must say, when working with customers from England, I use my best English grammar. No slang allowed. I have been corrected by many English men and women who seem to think that Americans butcher their beautiful language. It often will make me think back to one of my favorite musicals, My Fair Lady, where Professor Higgins complains about the English people’s usage of their own language. Upon reflection, he thinks of the fact that they haven’t used the English language in America for years. Perhaps there is an element of truth to that… So I will adapt to the language of whoever comes to speak to me as they tour.

“Being an American is a spectator sport.”

"black walnuts"

Being the night owl that I am, dealing with odd people first thing in the morning isn’t the greatest idea. I enjoy a nice, leisurely morning. Get up at 9, putter around, eat something eventually, and perhaps brew a pot of coffee. By 11 am or noon, I am fully functional, ready to take on the world. However, my schedule is not always conducive to that schedule, so at times I must flex with the real world. (I usually flex with my ideal schedule between 7 and 10 times per week.)

Tuesday morning, 10:10 am, into the shop marches what looked like winner of the “odd customer of the day” award. I had just gotten a cup of coffee at 10, but had lost it because I set it somewhere that I could find it. (turned out to be right on the countertop, in plain view.) A man and his son come in and start looking over the fudge case, seeing what flavors are there. I, being the groggy person I was at the time, let them look for a few seconds without saying anything. (Tourist fashion is another interesting topic. perhaps I will write about it another day. But the son was wearing cut-off skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and a HUGE bright purple dress shirt that was flapping in the air.) After a few moments, the man looks me in the eye and says “black walnuts.” What does that mean? I was so confused. “Can I help you, sir?” I replied. “I want black walnuts” he told me. I explained to him that we did not have any fudge with black walnuts in it, but I had lots with English walnuts. He tried one, and after chewing with deep thoughts running through his mind as he analyzed the chocolate, he told me “it would be better with black walnuts.” The man and his son turned from the counter then and had a small argument. The father didn’t think his son had ever tried a black walnut before, but the son insisted that he had. (Obviously it was a big deal to them both. Enough to carry the argument on for a while.)

Then a woman and her daughter walked into the shop. They were the other half of the family. They stopped about 10 feet away from my counter and began to read aloud the name of every fudge flavor. I offered her a sample of fudge. She took me up on trying the pumpkin fudge. I described it to her before I gave the sample to her explaining that it was by far our most unique flavor because of there being real pumpkin in the batch. She popped the little piece of fudge in her mouth and started chewing with concentration. You could see the wheels turning in her head as she wasn’t sure what to think of the candy. Finally she swallowed and immediately informed me that “someone cooked this batch of fudge too high. It’s grainy.” “That’s the real pumpkin in it” I told her. She then stood there are mumbled about it for a bit and finally came out and told me, “well, I think that is a very unique fudge!” Her daughter standing nearby in the driest tone of voice (half asleep, I’m sure.) tells her mom, “maybe that’s why he said it was a unique flavor when he gave you the sample.” The woman then informed me that she liked it and that she was going to look for a recipe for it so she could make it at home.

The man of the family stepped back up to my counter and asked me, “so are you from East or West Germany?” First thought in my head is “I don’t know where you’ve been, but last time I checked, Germany hasn’t been divided like that in decades.” I told him that I had grown up right here, in Michigan. “No, I mean, originally! Are you from East Germany?” No…. I am American! I’m from right here!!! “So then, are your parents from East Germany?” No, I am part Danish and part Hungarian, not German at all! The man finally shrugged and told me, “you people in this area have the weirdest accent. Like, it’s a dialect from another place.” What does that mean? Why do people always have to criticize me for speaking the language of my country as if I were from another country? Is it because I have a solid grip on the language and actually follow rules of grammar? Who knows.

They left right after that conversation. Not a moment too soon. I grabbed my coffee, drank the whole thing all at once and then promptly made my way right down to the coffee shop for a second cup. I knew it was going to be a long day without something to wake me up to attempt to process what I had just been through.

I must say, one of my favorite things about my job is seeing people from all over the world. There are so many personalities, characters… The world is full of interesting people. It truly does take all kinds to make the world what it is. It may be highly interesting to experience the extremities of personality, but why not meet them and have a story to tell?

“We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.”

could you smile please?

Does anyone remember what a film camera is? It has been a while, I know—it was popular (but going out of style) when I was a kid, which was not too long ago, though, in the world of technology, it was several decades ago. Photography used to be so much more complicated in the pre-digital centuries. Coming from the late 1800s when you only had one portrait shot (and smiling at a camera was a cardinal sin) to present day photo shoots with enough pictures taken to wallpaper the White House is quite a feat. I doubt I fully appreciate what the digital age has done for me with photography because I have so little experience with film. (Did photos used to be “developed”?)

With this change to digital photography, people have no reason to be picky about making sure every shot is a good one. With a mere 2-3 button clicks, the picture is erased—if you even go to the bother of erasing pictures one at a time. I see kids running around with cameras all the time, snapping “pics” of whatever they see. Now that you can see everything on the screen on the back of the camera, kids that don’t understand the concept of a viewfinder are no longer clipping of the top of every person’s head, or taking the picture of Niagara Falls that is so far out of focus that you wonder if it is a waterfall 3 miles away or an abstract photo of gray blur and mist with a hint of a hand in the left corner. Everyone has become a “photographer.” Or, so they call themselves. (One good shot out of every 1,000 isn’t that great, but the ones in between are good memories, just don’t plan on printing them [if you print them anymore].)

What could be more ridiculous in the hands of a tourist than a camera? When taking pictures at home, my family will average about 30 pictures of a single day event. Tourists somehow manage to take 30 pictures of each single stop they make—including the big mac that Jonny didn’t finish and Mary’s thumb-sucking in the back of the mini-van. One picture would be sufficient, but it’s just a digital file so take 30. You’re just going to download them to the computer and never look at them anyway. (I am still trying to figure out the purpose of most photography is.)

Tourists that come into the shop with cameras are by far the most aggravating. After they have snapped 12 pictures, the classic question always comes up. “May I take pictures in here?” I have yet to lie to a customer and say that it is a policy of ours that there be no photography allowed, but the temptation is strong by the end of a day! If you give permission, watch out—you will be their next subject to shoot 12 shots of. The purpose of those pictures? Well, I would imagine it is so when they go home, they can go over to the neighbor’s house and show Mrs. Smith the pictures of the stranger that they don’t know and will never see again. (That is presuming they are part of the 3.76 percent of people that look at the pictures they take.) Why should I smile for a camera with a loud tourist from who-knows-where while I’m making candy? Why would you want a picture of me? I’m not even in costume! Take a picture of your child riding the train or wearing a cool hat.

When I do travel, I do take some pictures, but I am picky about what I photograph. I like cool pictures that I can use as desktop backgrounds or sunsets that I will print and hang on my wall. Occasionally I will take a picture of a sign that says something classy that I need to go home and duplicate (Save the expense of an over-priced sucker-trap gift shop item.). Most importantly, I find it much more enjoyable and interesting to spend my vacation seeing things through my own eyes instead of a camera viewfinder. I would rather think back on the good memories in my head than look at thousands of pictures of strangers and nothingness that carries few memories of my interaction with my family and the “good times” we had. Put down the camera and enjoy the trip, and take those few pictures that you will enjoy and treasure. By taking fewer pictures, it is easier to go back and look through them because you were concise with your photography rather than weeding through hundreds of pictures that are worthless.

"The quickest way to make money at photography is to sell your camera."

- Anonymous