– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young – - Don’t touch that unless I tell you to

– Time For A Tiara: Column by Ginna Young –

I keep my camera bag pretty close to me, even when I don’t have my camera in it. There have been times, when I’ve been sharp with someone who dared touch my bag.

Hey, hands off!

One reason I’m snappish, is I need it to protect the camera when I return it to the bag, plus, I have my recorder in there, that I use at board meetings, business and feature stories, and any time I need it to catch something I might miss.

Unfortunately, I can’t write as fast or clearly as I used to, so even at simple awards ceremonies, I whip that thing out and know I at least have a back-up for information. I also keep my note pad in there, shaky handwriting or not, and sometimes, I may have information from four or five different events on there.

Once I get back to the office, I transfer the recording(s) to the computer and stick my notes in that week’s folder, but until then, I have to make sure they are safe in my camera bag.

I also have some “equipment” in there – an extra camera battery; extra SD cards; an external flash, with extra batteries for that and the recorder; a charger for the camera battery; an extra pen; cleaning cloths for the lens and if need be, my glasses; and a camera cover, in the event it begins to rain/ snow.

It doesn’t stop there, as I have a poncho that will protect not just me, but the camera bag, since it’s not water proof, band-aids (I’m accident prone), chewing gum (low blood sugar) and a small packet of tissues. What can I say, I cry a lot when I’m proud of “my kids” and anything to do with veterans.

I probably should carry a plastic bag for my discarded tissues, but once I’d get any in the plastic bag, there’d be no room for it. (Mr. Lorenzen still won’t sit with me, after the one Lake Holcombe graduation, when I sobbed so much, the Kleenex were littered all over around our chairs.)

In the main part of my camera bag, I also carry my favorite tiara tucked in there (don’t tell the other ones), so I always am prepared, if I need to pull it out and adorn my noble head with it. I have actually had to do that quite a few times, much to people’s delight.

Then, there are my “treasures.” None of these items have any intrinsic value or would mean anything to anyone else, but to me, they mean the world and a memory is attached with each one.

This past week, at a meeting, I needed something I’d stashed and had gotten into the side pocket of the camera bag, where my treasures reside. I would have sworn I rezipped it, but when I got home, I discovered it was wide open.

I won’t lie, I had a panic attack. Frantically, I pulled everything out and took inventory. The first thing I came across, was the guitar pick that was personally given to me by Geno, of the Whitesidewalls, a popular 1950s and 1960s group. Geno (what a handsome, distinguished older gentleman, so charismatic) bestowed that on me one year, at the Cornell Community Fair.

In fact, it was the first fair after COVID and I was so happy that night, not just to dance to good music with my friends, but to finally see people gathered again, after so long. Geno is now retired, so that makes the pick priceless.

Next, I found the lone penny I was looking for, given to me by one of my kids, along with two rubber duckies, as a bribe to put her picture in the paper. For the record, I did, because you can’t take a bribe without following through!

I knew I had more money in there and kept digging through the pile. Finally, I found what I was looking for: the glitter-filled dollar bill a girl traded to me for a glowstick one July 3 celebration, making me promise to never spend it. And when I say girl, she had to be at least 14.

I thought it was the funniest thing ever and solemnly promised to keep it forever.

Next, I made sure I have the glittery, silver crocheted bracelet that a very talented lady made me, to go along with my tiara and a message from a friend, reminding me how amazing I am.

As I kept sorting out the items, my smile grew, as I spotted the Monopoly money that was shot into the crowd at the one Cornell Homecoming celebration that made me laugh so hard, I couldn’t sit up and fell over on my side, gasping for air. Mr. Parker in the cat costume – man, it brought down the house!

My smile turned misty, as I found the heart that I held in unison with the Cadott students, when we honored the lives of the Chippewa Falls Girl Scouts, who passed away when a driver left the roadway and hit them, while they were picking up trash. I can still see Mr. Smith, who normally has such a big smile, choking back tears.

Like I said, there are a lot of memories in that not so little bag, as well as the things I need to do my job. And almost all of them come from the schools I love so dearly. That’s why I get a little possessive of my camera bag.

However, I did find one thing in there that I could live without and would be happy to give away. A bedraggled piece of Christmas tree tinsel. Not sure how long that’s been in there; it had definitely seen better days.

I guess I’m lucky it wasn’t Easter grass, cause that stuff, you can never get rid of!