The sun is setting in Los Angeles. I’m on the 101 with the window rolled down and I’m cranking the stereo. A song that comes on the radio that absolutely: Blows. My. Mind. But, before I tell you what it is, you’ll need to know some background.

Earlier this morning, I see a post on Craigslist:

FILM!!! MEDIUM FORMAT 120 & 220 KODAK… $1 – (LOS ANGELES)

Date: 2008-12-22, 11:54AM PST

I HAVE A TON OF KODAK FILM THAT GETS LEFT OVER FROM MY PHOTO SHOOTS THROUGH OUT THE WEEK!!! I SELL IT FOR 1.25$ A ROLL.UNLESS YOU BUY 20+ROLLS ITS ONLY 1.00$ EACH!!! I CAN MAKE GREAT DEALS PLEASE CALL #(323)XXX-XXXX

Nice. I appreciate an ALL CAPS post like that, screaming a great deal at me. However, my beloved Mamiya 645E, she is broken. Of course she is. I get a fab new lens for this rad medium-format magicmaker and now, though I’ve been trying for weeks and replaced the battery, it won’t meter. Well it will meter. In dusky twilight: f4 at ASA 160? 1/15th of a second. Pitch black in my closet? 1/15th of a second. Shooting a solar flare? 1/15th of a second. Everything I throw at it says 1/15th second. That ain’t right. So, it’s a good thing I’m getting better at hand metering with my trusty L-208. But, still I’m bummed. The guy who sold me the lens did so under promise that I’d shoot like crazy. I’ve not done so, and I feel very guilty. He even threw in his lucky lens cap! I better start figuring out where I am gonna get this serviced.

Excerpt from a user review of the Mamiya 645E that helped convince me to buy it in the first place, just a few short months ago:

“I do all of my shooting from a tripod and don’t mind advancing roll film via the standard hand crank (yes folks film advance is manual, as is focusing and setting aperture)” – outdoorscenics.

Now, flash back to few weeks ago:

I just got the new 55mm lens for the Mamiya! It’s a wide beauty; I can scarcely be more excited. First, I have a love for good wide-angle photos. Barely less significant is that the lens came from a fantastic photographer and doubtlessly has scads of phojo (photo mojo) in it. I fit the lens to the body, make sure the A/M lever is set to ‘M’ since it’s a manual focus camera and off I go.

And, back to this afternoon:

Hmm, there’s the Mamiya user manual on my shelf. I wonder if it has anything useful about my light meter problem.

Excerpt from the Mamiya 645 manual:

Doh! I assumed from my EOS brainwashing what A meant. And, M meant. Ahhh! Sometimes you think you know, but you don’t know at all. RTFM! And now, the Mamiya, she works! I “fixed” her. Clever boy.

So, I call the guy in the Craigslist ad. I set up the meet in Silverlake. I go down and I pick up fifty-eight loose rolls of medium format Kodak film of all various awesomeness for fifty bucks. Less than a buck a roll. Now, I’m set for a good long while. I have no more excuses.

And, I’m driving back with my booty in a lightproof bag. I’m on the 101, the sun is going down in Los Angeles and everything is golden honey. Preset Number One is the bluegrass station and they kick into a down home Kentucky version of Silent Night: No sir! I am done with Christmas music. I hit up Preset Number Two (the seventies station) and what’s just starting?

This song.

Life’s a trip.

Early Friday afternoon and I get text message from Sarah: Can you make a 7:30 movie at Arclight?

As soon as I get it, I call her back: Yes I can make it! We’re going to see Dark Knight with her Dad — key clue #1. Excellent. She tells me she is taking the train there — key clue #2.

So the day goes on, and I’m in a great mood. Grind out some work and then a little after 6, I head out. I have to make it up the 405 though Friday rush hour to the Sherman Oaks Arclight near our apartment. I battle traffic, busses, bikes. I don’t even get impatient, I’m just happy. I just know it will all work out just fine.

I just barely miss a traffic break on the ramp from the 10 to the 405. I’m the last car they let through. I’m so golden.

The 405 is slow, but with an inspiring regularity to the slowness. It’s like this all the time. I can count on its lurching plod through the Sepulveda pass and up over the hill. As every other driver notices, every other driver is a complete moron. But this time, for the millionth miracle, we all fail to crash into each other.

I exit Ventura, I sit through the 5th longest light in America. It’s 7:08. I’m feeling smooth and confident.

I get my ticket to enter the parking garage. The line stretches around the corner and up the ramp out of sight. And it ain’t moving. I don’t get worried. I’m listening to John Mayer. It’s all good. After two minutes thing get going. I’m up the ramp. I’m passing dozens of cars with their turn signals waiting for a spot, as I ascend to the much more sedate upper level.

I park.

I sit in the car waiting through the guitar solo in the live version of “Gravity.” I can afford it, it’s only 7:16! I can’t describe the feeling of things being right in the world. Great music, about to see my great girlfriend, and see an undoubtedly great movie. I get out and make my way. It’s a long walk through the Galleria to the theater. I decide to call Sarah and make sure she didn’t get stuck somewhere. She did say she was taking the train.

The train?

There is no train to the Sherman Oaks Galleria. I hadn’t really thought about it. Surely she meant the Orange Line bus that uses its own bus corridor. It’s very much like a train, doesn’t use the streets.

She picks up as I’m walking past Fuddruckers. She’s already here! Great! I’m almost there, I say, and hang up. I go past Ben & Jerry’s and the pieces all slot into place at once. There’s no train to Sherman Oaks, but the train does go to Hollywood, to the Hollywood Arclight. Her dad wouldn’t come up to the Sherman Oaks Arclight, would he? I call Sarah back.

Umm, what Arclight are you at?

Five minutes later I’m in line to exit the parking garage. It’s a long line and it’s not moving. I’m completely still. I’m experiencing a deep self-directed fury that rages in my center and causes my whole being to ache and spasm. But, on the outside I am a rock. I go home and take the dogs for a walk. A long walk.