An Apple Among Onions

I bought a new camera today. It's a Canon if that does anything for ya...I just randomly went out one day, spent about $300 on a camera, and, for what? Because I love taking pictures?
I haven't really used it yet, either, in fact, it just sits on top of my DVD collection, collecting its own aging dust. I'll pick it up every once and awhile, and mess around with it's features, maybe snap off a few worthless pictures. I still can't comprehend how, just out of the blue, I drove to OfficeMax, and forked over that much money for a camera.
I started thinking of how I'd use that camera; what sort of pictures I'd be taking with the camera, where I'd be at the time I cashed 200+ pictures, how long the camera would last me, if I'd break it within 2 months of its ownership, which brought me to my first point - I had to insure this camera. And I did. I paid an additional $30+ on a 2-year warranty.
Don't think for a second I've never owned my own camera before. I had bought a real piece of shit before; a Sony. I went in that day, browsing the selection, hunting a familiar and reliable brand, such as Olympus or Canon. I saw Kodaks and Minoltas, Nikons, and Pentax (one Pentax, that is) - and then, the Sony. Canon was there, but before I came in, I did my research. It appeared more economical for me to go with a camera with a battery pack, instead of manual-loaded batteries. This would save me from buying individual packs of batteries.
I didn't want a Kodak, Minolta, a Nikon, or a Pentax. They were my feared off-brands. Nikon was a big name, but, from what I've heard, only a top shit brand in SLR's. Sony, it seemed like, was an off-brand in the digital camera department, but I took a chance, an ill-fated chance at that, and purchased the Sony because it had a battery pack. That camera is now with a Brazilian who matched my $150 reserve for it on eBay. The flash rarely worked, the processor speed was shit, I dropped the son of a bitch after a night of heavy drinking, and it couldn't brush away the evidence of a battered life. That Brazilian must have been a dumb-fuck.
Somewhere among these letters is a point. That point is, I made a mistake in taking a chance, and yes, I know this way of putting things seems naive. When you take a chance, it seems like it is always with love or some other major thing like getting behind a wheel when you are smashed, and never is with something minor like camera shopping.
In my compulsiveness a few days ago, I repeated that dire mistake, which this time, didn't resemble the same consequences. I enjoy my Canon. Couldn't I have waited to buy a camera? The answer to that is no. I constantly feel like I'm missing out on different events, such as hanging out with friends, talking with loved ones and family members. Some of those people won't be in my life much longer, and, I hope against this, the vise-versa. A life in pictures seems to be the best solution. Even if the scrapbook contains some pretty uninteresting moments, it's still a sure-fire way to keep those memories in tact. And above everything else, that's all I can ask for.
Here's a related story. My mom will, just out of the blue, pull out her old high school yearbooks, and flip through them, reminiscing about what all went on in those three years (she went to Central for middle school, and back then, middle school extended from sixth or seventh to ninth grade) I could tell it brought back to her a flash of emotions.
She'd get to pictures of people who are dead now, and how she knew them. Then, the rest of the people who moved on to other towns, states, and countries. Nowadays, we live in what the older generations have coined as the "digital age" where everyone has a cell phone, a digital camera/camcorder, and computer available, and how those are utilized in communication and documentation. How she probably wishes she would have been so lucky to have what we have now, and how cheaply we can commandeer it. At times, I'll just utter, "Thank God" because technology has come a long way, and the benefits are remarkable.

In an unrelated story, I find myself to be a scientist some way. I am not intelligent enough to know the word for the exact thing I am trying to express, so, I thought I would start things off by telling the story in full, spliced and edited of course, for time, and we will see what develops.
I test people constantly. I will be at work, and a person will come in that seems distrustful. If they pay for something, I will give them a buck or two back over the correct amount of change they should have been given when paying for something in large bills. I will count it back to them, and hope they listen for the mistake. They usually will count the change back to themselves; it is something I have noticed lower-class citizens will do, to make sure they are not jipped. If they catch the mistake, and are a good person, they will correct me, and say, "I think you gave me too much." I'm an excellent interpreter of body-language, so, when they have caught the mistake and are not such a good person, they tend to flush, or make some kind of odd body movement or impulse that makes me believe they are not telling the truth. Those people will take the bait, and walk out, without another word, a buck or two richer. Why do I do this? In Greek Mythology, why did Hera test Jason by disguising herself as an elderly woman, and asking Jason to carry her upon his shoulders across a raging river to the safety of the other side? She was looking for a good soul among the wicked to do her a favor, to fetch the golden fleece with the Argonauts. I guess in a way, I'm searching for my own hope; a band of good souls among the wicked.