Sunday morning at 6am, Alex and I packed a few things and headed across the State. We’d been invited to Greg Gorman’s Mendocino studio to join them for dinner – and I had some business there as well. Among the things I packed up was my laptop. We made it out of the mountains in a blistering 40 minutes and blazed toward Sacramento. We pulled into Greg’s house at 11:30 – just in time to do some business, get settled, check into our hotel and dress for the afternoon party. As I unpacked the car – I recognized that my computer bag was not in the car. I remembered how full my hands had been as I hiked down from the condo and that I’d put some things down on the street to find the keys and unlock the car. OMG – I thought, could I have left my computer bag sitting on the road. And on the computer were all of my Italy images and worse, the entire wedding shoot – along with my backup hard drive and i-pod – an excellent find for nearly anyone. Long story short - for two days, I revisited my memory of my walk from the condo to the car – over and over, hoping to settle my mind on whether I was in real trouble.
I don’t get upset about too many things – don’t yell at crappy drivers and don’t pull my gun. I have to say, I was completely preoccupied for a good bit of the days and nights wondering how I might recover my computer – and the wedding images for which this trip had been planned.
After our race back from the ocean, I pulled up into the Galaxy Bowl to park and the four flights of stairs to the condo. I’d been planning in my head to type out a note and post it on every door and windshield on the mountaintop. There was of course a slim but plausible possibility that I’d left the computer on the kitchen table and only thought I’d brought it – my memory contrary to the worst - being supported by my strong intention to bring it.
I sent Alex up first – he being 17 and less influenced by the thin air here at nearly 8000 feet. I asked him to yell down to me whether the computer was in the house. I paused in the parking lot, leaning over the roof of the car waiting for Alex to complete the trek. He unlocked the door and went inside.
For what seemed like a lengthy few moments, he returned shaking his head as if saying “No” with arms outstretched as if he was in dismay – but alas, it is only my reading eyes that have failed me. I can still read a license plate for blocks – and saw the beaming smile Alex could not conceal. I left my computer on the table – and all was not lost. Thanks God – whoever you conceive him to be.
