“denial.”
1.5 lb fresh boiled lobster.
Photography is a great way to live in denial. As someone who used to go months “forgetting” that I owned a camera, it is ironic that I now keep such a photographic record of my life experiences. I would say I manage to capture fifty percent of my life with that little silver box.
It’s nice to have something tangible to remember the little moments, and pictures serve that purpose well. On the long, traffic-ridden drive home from vacation, I took a glance through my camera’s shots: the ocean, the family, the ice cream flavors, the fog, the sand, the dinners. I stopped at the lobster.
Amongst all our gourmet meals up in Maine, this casual basket of boiled lobster is still the definitive vacation dinner. It is quintessential Maine: when you are here, you dine on lobster. You forget tablecloths and heels for a night; you don’t forget the plastic bib. You get your hands dirty, and you use your teeth to suck lobster meat out of lobster legs. It’s sort of barbaric in the most delicious way.
At one time, a family dinner at The Lobster Pound was a near-four-hour event. My dad and uncle would start off the evening with a batch of steamers, followed by clam chowder, lobster and sides, and a rich chocolate-y dessert. Changes come as life goes on: lobster is a thing of my now-kosher uncle’s past, and Dad now skips the steamers and dessert in favor of 2.75 pounds of lobster – typically, the biggest one in the pool outside. Its size is always impressive.
If I stare at this photograph long and hard enough, I can pretend I can’t hear the dog wailing next door or my neighbors chatting upstairs. I can almost taste the lobster, smell the ocean, and anticipate the ice cream that followed this meal. The photo will have to last me until next year.
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This is sort of sad, but I’ve never had a fresh, steamed lobster. It looks and sounds like an amazing, unforgettable meal. I’ve had lobster rolls, which rocked my socks off. I can imagine that eating Maine lobster while in the Northeast is as much of a “must-try” as visiting the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
You know, I’ve never actually had a lobster roll. I’m a purist, I guess? If you find yourself in Maine or Rhode Island though, fresh lobster is an absolute must!
yuuuuuum!
but is photography a form of denial or just a way to relive the past with a tinge of nostalgia? i guess some view nostalgia as an unhealthy feeling, and i’m not sure how “healthy” it is for me to document every little event (food-related or otherwise), but is sure helps me as a writer in recreating the past in the most eloquent of ways, which you have done in this post.
can i reiterate that you are a fabulous writer and i’m gonna be the first to read your book? thanks for giving me an advanced reading copy.
namaste (HAH),
sofia
That’s an interesting question – I’m going to go with photography as an enhanced form of nostalgia, which is never a negative thing unless it distracts you from living in the present. I tend to think of my photography habits as selective documentation, which just helps me remember certain moments a little bit better.
PS: Thank you. :) And re: namaste, LOL.