I recently placed an order for a couple of new lens hoods to fit my relatively new camera lens. I am happy to report that they arrived in a timely manner, packed neatly into a lightweight box.
I open up a box I’m expecting to receive, knowing exactly what is supposed to be in it, and I find exactly what I should find.
So, you’re probably asking yourself one question.
What’s the story here?
(I’m only assuming you’re asking that question. You might just be skimming through this blog post as a way to pass the time. You might not be paying much attention at all, which means I could type anything and you wouldn’t really read it. I could go on a poor spelling spree and you wouldn’t even notice. I would notice, though, so I won’t do it. Moving on…)
Here’s the story.
One of my favorite parts of ordering online is the anticipation of receiving a very useful by-product (of sorts) of shipping.
To put it simply, half the fun is opening up the box to pop the bubble wrap.
I was highly satisfied with my lens hoods, but slightly disappointed in the packing material:
I believe that the greatest packing material ever invented is bubble wrap. Bubble wrap does its intended job very well, but it also has a remarkable capacity to act as a stress-relieving agent.
You ever notice that if you spend a lot of money on a gift for a kid, they usually end up ignoring the big-ticket item and spend a few hours playing with the box? That’s kind of how I feel about bubble wrap. I haven’t actually tried popping the air pillows, but I just don’t think it’s going to be as much fun. Besides, there were only something like seven air pillows in the box. Bubble wrap is packaged in increments of gazillions.
Say, do you think the bubble wrap manufacturers ship bubble wrap wrapped in…bubble wrap? Is that another “divided-by-zero” paradox that could destroy the universe?
Maybe it’s just time for me to go use the lens hoods.