Electronic items know how to piss me off, yet make me happy at the same time. Immediately after I’d posted that “oh no, my camera died” post, I plugged the batteries back in, and it “worked”. In fact, I took this photo of me looking pretty non-plussed using it

The lens no longer jams, and remarkably, the camera is, at this moment in time, working. However, when the lens extends, there’s a definite noise difference, so the problem isn’t “fixed”, it’s simply “working now”, and I’ll still expect a complete failure of the lens mechanism in the very near future.

Oh, I can’t believe this has just happened. In fact, I have a little lump in my throat as I type this, but I have broken my trusty little Acer camera, which has been the stalwart of my photography since winter 2006. Over those 4 years, it’s not been far from my pocket, capturing the entirety of my trips to Edinburgh, Paris and Berlin over those past 4 years, along with many thousands of other images which have resided mainly on my flickr account since then.It’s even seen uses in situations where my main camera is a bit too bulky to carry around

Unfortunately, as quickly as it came into my life, and filled it full of wonderment, it exited, and has already left a gaping hole. I was taking some random photos earlier, mainly of a delicious curry I’d made, complete with incredibly undercooked chillies, when the batteries ran out. “Gah”, I thought as the lens retracted, and the power went off.

I slapped it in my trouser pocket, and proceeded to take the charger upstairs with me. As I bent over, to plug it in, I heard a shuddering crack. Knowing that there was only one thing my pocket, except for my keys, I knew something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

And, indeed it had. My faithful little Acer, had, for some reason, switched itself back on and the lens had fully extended while in my pocket. I’d say that I’d accidentally switched it on with my massive penis, but these jeans are quite thick and the “on” button is quite small, meaning that any accidental button pushing with my enormous phallus is highly unlikely.

I removed it from my pocket to find the lens jammed in partially, After switching it off and back on, the lens motor sounded particularly unhealthy, and the lens got stuck halfway. I was presented with a “lens error”, and the camera switched itself off.

I’ve enjoyed using it, and have put it through probably more than it was designed for. The case is scratched to hell and back. The lens cover itself would occasionally get stuck when opening, The screen’s cracked, and there’s dirt on the sensor, as shown here…

The dirt is that little dark patch on the left, in case you didn’t know, or are thick. As can be seen in that photo, however, is that even after that amount of time, it still takes a good picture.

The batteries are on charge, so hopefully after a small amount of charge, it’ll be good to go again. It’ll be a sad day when it finally enters that little bit of drawer space in the sky.

Yup, online as of about 40 minutes ago. More news in the morning.

The 80s music on the Drench advert, where a goldfish picks out the location of a ball in a cup, is called “Push it To the Limit”, by Paul Engemann. Although the advert is only a few seconds long, you may recognise it from the soundtrack of Scarface, and of course, GTA 3, as part of Flashback FM. In fact, all of the Flashback FM tracks are from Scarface.

I do like the Scarface soundtrack, and it’s so long since I’ve played it. On it goes.

In other news, at 16:29 today, the Revo Dalek which had been salvaged from Lancaster Road, received its first power in its new home, with help from a gear tray supplied by Andy The Iridium Fan. This is also the first time in my entire life that I’d lit a SOX (low pressure sodium) lantern. I took a photo at the immediate time of switch-on, but the floor in the living room was a mess so none of you will ever get to see it. To me, however, it was a groundbreaking moment.

Unfortunately, for the majority of you readers, “getting back in the habit” referrs to the following ramble about the removal of some of Hartlepool’s oldest streetlights. I know by the time you’ve reached the end of this sentence, most of you will have clicked the back button, or at least started looking at something other than the text that fills your screen, but it’s the sad announcement that the Revo Daleks are now almost extinct in Hartlepool.

The Revo Dalek, is not a pretty lantern. In fact, as a child, I always thought there was something wrong with it. I have distinct memories of travelling down Lancaster Road as a mere infant, looking up at these oddly shaped lanterns, and saying to my late mother that “its chips are hanging out”. Chips, referring to integrated circuits, as I assumed that a streetlight consists of more than a bulb, ballast, ignitor and switch. Clearly, my childhood presumption was wrong, as they survived for around another 25 years.

But seriously, these particular lanterns remained a bit of a mystery. Even as a child, I could tell they were absolutely ancient, and as I learned more about streetlighting, I learned more about them. I’m sure I photographed an example, and posted the images to the StreetlightingUK mailing list, where the lantern was identified.

The Revo Dalek, isn’t its official name. In fact, it got the name “Dalek” because of the dimples on the side of its bowl resembling those of a Dalek from Dr. Who. As I’ve only ever seen one episode of the afore mentioned televisual presentation in its entirety, I’ve never seen the connection. Either way, the official model numbers were C13720 to C13723, though there are no markings on any of the lanterns to tell which model is which. There are at least 3 variations that I know of. Later models adjusted the cast iron moulding to accomodate top-entry variations, and no doubt this could also be used for photocell mounting. These particular examples preceded the recasting, and so don’t have a circular point on top…

Now, there’s a particular reason why I chose that image. You see that post that’s being cut down? Well, I now own that particular lantern, thanks to Andy The Iridium Fan delivering it to Mercuryvapour Towers.

As you can imagine, after roughly 50 years lighting a small patch of Hartlepool, it’s in a sorry state. The bowl is cracked, complete with a bullet-hole, but it’s a complete example. The weather has been disgusting since I received the lantern (and so is the bird shite on top of it), so I’ve not had chance to photograph it properly yet.

One thing I always assumed, due to the lantern’s size, is that it was gear-in-head (as in, the “chips”, as I referred to them as a child) were stored in the lanterns canopy. This wasn’t the case, and is the reason why lanterns of its age still survive. Most, if not all modern lanterns now, include their workings in the lantern, which means if one part fails (other than the bulb), the whole unit is switched out. This is why, these days, you never see a full row of streetlights that look exactly the same. Something fails, they replace the entire thing instead of repairing it.

However, Andrew has promised the electrickery bits to get it working again. Before that, however, it’ll need a hell of a clean. We’ll need some decent weather before that happens.

Thanks to a night out that went wrong (that deserves a whole blog post on its own), I ended up walking down Lancaster Road, and caught the last time these Revo Daleks were lit, as they were disconnected the following morning…

EDITl Balls! I pressed “publish” accidentally. Still, it’s close enough.