Last night, my husband John came back home from work with an Amazon parcel. There was nothing strange about John bringing these brown boxes home after work. What was unusual about this particular parcel is, it was for me. He asked me to open it explaining it was an early Mother’s Day present from our daughters.
Excitedly, I “obeyed” my husband. In the box laid a selfie stick. My very own selfie stick in purple and aluminium extendable pole.
Quickly, my very proud husband assembled it. He was particular quick because he could see from my reaction that he had bought the right present for me. After the assembling of the selfie stick, My Moto G mobile phone was loaded on it. Holding the selfie stick in the air with its extendable pole, my daughter and I snapped away. We felt fabulous. I was Beyoncé, and they, Blue Ivy Carter.
Immediately, the blogger in me went wild making editorial strategies on how to use her new selfie stick to chat in pictures with her audience.
This morning, my editorial plan was to use my selfie stick to tell the story of my day on my blog. But to my surprise, on the radio, was a heart breaking news about Selfie sticks. The National Gallery in London had decided to ban visitors from using selfie sticks to protect their works. To make matters worse, National Portrait Gallery may soon follow suit.
Presently, I have no plans of going to both places but the news of the embargo on selfie sticks in these places upset me. It upset me because I feel hard done-by. It was only presented to me yesterday. And today, selfie stick is “absurd” according to Brian Sewell.
So, why did John decide to buy this popular gadget for me? Is it to make me look ridiculous in public or to purposely damage a priceless painting in a gallery or museum?
I believe John bought this selfie stick for me to help indulge myself and my blog followers with great photos.
Determined not to be put off by the upsetting news , I packed my selfie stick in my ruck sack, headed off to the local park wearing my Hawaiian shirt, and to the shock horror on the faces of dog walkers, I snapped away.