The View Through the Lens

As WordPress continues to recycle old prompts, I pulled another prompt from The Coffee Monsterz Co to respond to today

How do you decide when to video record an experience versus living in the moment?

This is something of a hot-button topic for me. I understand the drive to capture certain moments. I recorded Kid 1’s entire entrance into the North Charleston Coliseum when he graduated high school, and I know I have footage of both my boys shortly after they were born tucked away somewhere.

The Lens as a Filter

I remember back when I was married, my then sister-in-law would send out literally hundreds of photos of her son every month. Thankfully, we were already in the digital age; there is no way she could have mailed 300 physical prints to the entire family. But even then, I remember thinking: She isn’t going to actually remember these moments. If she did, her sensory memory would be filtered entirely through the screen of a digital camera.

I just can’t do that.

The Digital Junk Drawer

It’s a strange irony. My father spent his later years as a photography instructor, right as the world was shifting from 35mm film to digital. He understood the transition better than most, but I’m not sure anyone predicted the ‘digital junk drawer’ we’ve created for ourselves. Because storage is cheap and cloud space feels infinite, we take thousands of photos but rarely archive them with any real intention.

We are obsessed with capturing the image, but less dedicated than ever to actually maintaining the memory. I say I have that footage of my sons ‘tucked away somewhere,’ but in reality, it’s likely buried on a forgotten jump drive or a dusty hard drive. We’ve traded the physical photo album for a digital cloud that we rarely, if ever, visit.

The Wannabe Critic vs. The “Evidence”

I do shoot some video—certain key moments—but to be honest, I probably don’t shoot as much as I’d like. I want to get into the habit of capturing more footage when I visit a new ballpark, just to help anchor the memory of the experience. It’s a bit of the “wannabe factor”—I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a ballpark critic, and I see people on TikTok or Instagram doing these thorough reviews that I’d love to emulate. Because I usually don’t get to see these parks more than once, I feel that pull to document them.

But a major pet peeve of mine is being at a concert or a game and seeing people record the entire event. Honestly, if my memory is so bad that I won’t remember the sights, sounds, or even the smell of the general ambiance of a show, then maybe that show isn’t really worth remembering.

I’ll admit, I’m not immune to the pressure. At a concert, I might film a song or a 30-second clip just for a piece of “evidence” that I was there. And I’ve definitely been guilty of raising my phone during a potential game-winning hit at a baseball game. Social media makes us think everyone captures those “astronomically rare” moments all the time, and I’ve felt that urge to “keep up with the Joneses” and get a little bit of video for once.

We live in a voyeuristic society now. You can go as far back as the Rodney King beating in the early 90s to see when people first wanted to capture history in real-time—even then, that guy was using a bulky VHS camcorder. Today, it’s much easier. Most of us own smartphones, and I’ve witnessed students whip them out to film a fight the second it starts. They aren’t as emotionally mature as adults (allegedly), so I’ve come to expect it from them, but it highlights how much we’ve shifted toward watching life through a screen.

The Roar of the Real World

On the other hand, I have attended more than my fair share of Tigers “walk-off” victories. I remember those clearly because I watched them happen with my own two eyes. I remember the crowd erupting; I remember being a part of that roar. I remember exchanging high-fives with random strangers. We didn’t know each other—we might not even get along in the “real world”—but in that moment, we had a bond. We were Tiger fans, basking in pure jubilation.

Two of my most vivid ballpark experiences are the final game at old Tiger Stadium and the very first game at Comerica Park. I took photos both days, though not as many as “the old man” did. But those memories are tangible; they stick out in my head and will likely be with me for the rest of my life.

Even when I went to the Mega 80s concert with Veronica a couple of weeks back, I recorded maybe a 30 or 45-second clip. At the time, I thought I’d post them to social media, but I never did. I’m not even sure where those clips are on my phone right now.

But I do have the memories of that night. To me, those are worth far more than the footage.

Coming Up Today at 10 AM ET:

While I’m focusing on living in the moment, I’m making an exception for the latest dispatch from the 32nd century. Check back here at 10 AM for my full Starfleet Academy review. I’ll be taking off the “teacher armor” to see if the new episode lives up to the potential of the final frontier.

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AI art created with Google Gemini.

The article “The View Through the Lens” first appeared in Rebuilding Rob