Product: Sony Handheld Camcorder
Rating: 0 stars
Weak Memory: LOST ALL MY RECORDINGS
Reviewed by Donna Linden
When a company advertises that its product has “ultra-reliable data storage” and has “more memory capacity than ever before” and the catchphrase for its advertisement is quite literally “Keep Your Memories Safe”™, one would perhaps expect that the absolute last thing their brand-new, ultra-reliable camera would do is LOSE THEIR RECORDINGS. If anyone reading this is located in Clinton, New Jersey, DO NOT go to the Best Buy store on Donnard Street, and DO NOT talk to Annie Metzger. She is the dimwitted employee I talked to months ago who assured me on the Lord’s name that the recordings of my loved ones were safe in the hands of Sony’s new camcorder. She is a liar, and not only that, she mentioned with an unladylike and quite passive aggressive tone for a girl in high school that “smart phones take videos now” and that if I cared about memory storage, perhaps I should upgrade my iPhone’s storage capacity at their smartphone kiosk. I am not a stupid person, Annie. I know what I like, and I am not one to fall for upselling tricks. Howard liked the DVD recordings better anyway. He liked the way they looked on our television. He and I would sit and watch videos of Rosie, our daughter, playing with her blocks when she was a tot. Those moments were precious. Apparently Annie Metzger does not understand the importance of witnessing memories. What has Annie Metzger from Best Buy ever gone through? I am sure her worst inconveniences involve a boy not noticing her flashy hairstyles or her over-the-top makeup. I am sure she doesn’t go to church but is somehow graced by luck and handed whatever she wants. Do you know how many times I prayed, Annie? Hundreds, if not thousands. I went to every mass, every confession, every trivial church dinner. I sat in the pews alone and cried to the Lord. I cried to him and begged him to bring her back. All he gave me, Annie, was a dusty Bankers box full of DVDs of my Rosie throwing her blocks and learning to crawl. It is all I have. So when Howard fell to cancer, and Dr. Kronaski at Clifton Oncology Center told us he had four months, Annie, the first thing I did was drive to Best Buy, purchase what you called a reliable video camera, and capture as much as I could. We spent our savings and flew to Florence. Howard always wanted to see a Michelangelo with his own two eyes. He kissed me in front of La Fontana dello Sprone. We shared cappuccinos and danced into the night like we were young again. And I filmed it all, Annie. Every last hug and kiss and smile. When we returned and Howard’s chemo drained the red from his cheeks, I showed him our films. He smiled through the battle because of those videos, Annie. It was two days after his wake that I powered the Sony camcorder on and it was blank. I checked the disk and the battery. All seemingly normal. Unexplainable. The memories were gone. In a flash. I am not a young woman, Annie. My brain can betray me and memories do not come easy to me. They are fragmented and foggy, but on the Sony camcorder they weren’t. It turns out your camera betrayed me more than my own tired brain, Annie. I hope your manager has a talk with you on the value of honesty.