Patience Is A Virtue?

See that handsome devil over there? That's a genuine Texas gentleman named Cecil. Although he's been transplanted to California for many years, he has never lost his Texas-sized heart or sense of humor.

I've never met Cecil in the flesh but we've been fast friends for lo! these many years, ever since we both joined that first online writers' group. We are both currently members of a very special, very tight group of friends who daily share our lives and love with each other. And we all love Cecil.

This photo was taken last spring when he traveled to Portland to share in the wedding festivities for one of our merry band. That big smile may reflect the fact that he was surrounded by lovely and adoring friends of the female persuasion. Or maybe it was just because Cecil knows how to enjoy himself and live fully in the moment.

That's an all too brief thumbnail sketch of the man but I wanted to at least introduce you before I tell you a story about him. And it goes like this ...

Back when my beloved digicam up and died on me, it was perfectly natural to whine and mewl about it on the list. Cees chimed in and suggested whatever was wrong with my camera must be contagious because his digicam had also died. Then, a few days later, he informed us he had named the camera Lazarus because it had suddenly begun working again. Yay!

Then, off-list, he wrote and said he wanted to give the camera to me. He said he preferred using his video camera, which allowed him to capture stills as well as videos. We went back and forth on it and I finally agreed, touched beyond measure at his generosity. Shortly before Christmas, Lazarus arrived, carefully rolled in bubble wrap and cushioned with two-ply paper toweling -- in a cardboard box that had previously contained cans of cat food. I loved it.

And I fell in love with the camera almost immediately. Lazarus is a very spiffy Canon PowerShot S1 IS and, judging from the half-dozen quickie experimental shots I ran off, capable of really good "stuff."

Well, it was capable for a little while. Unfortunately, Lazarus dropped back into dying mode, showing either distorted smears or simply a blank screen. I quickly fired up Google to see if other Canon users had suffered similar problems and, hopefully, found a solution that did not entail shooting the camera to put it out of my misery.

Luck was with me. It probably comes as no surprise to you that parts is parts. No matter what brand of camera you have, it probably uses some of the same components used by other brands, purchased from an independent vendor. Which is how it came to pass that Canon and a few other companies ended up with a batch of faulty CCD sensors. As I understand it, the sensors are what enables the camera brain to communicate with the camera lenses. Don't quote me on that.

I don't know what the other companies did about it but Canon stepped up to the plate with class. All I had to do was call the toll free number to set in motion the solution to the problem. Canon will replace the sensor at no charge to me ("regardless of warranty") and even pay for the shipping! Can't ask for better than that.

So Lazarus was received at Canon's repair center on, I think, the 21st of December and they agreed the problem was the faulty sensor, therefore no charge would be levied. They also said the camera would be shipped back in seven to ten business days -- possibly longer with the holiday season. Which is to be expected. I probably couldn't have sent it in at a busier time of the year. I really didn't expect to see Lazarus until sometime this week.

Patience will have to be practiced a bit longer, I'm afraid. When I checked a little while ago with the tracking page at the repair center, it informed me the camera had still not been shipped back. [sigh] Okay. Maybe I'll see it next week. That would be kewl. Because, as much as I love the LOLcats, I'm anxious to be taking my own photos again. I really miss that, darn it.

But I must remember -- patience is a virtue. Well, sometimes. That is a concept not always easy to remember if you're on the wrong side of a bathroom door.