HERE TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

365 Days of Thanksliving — Day 142

Last fall, I made a deal with myself. I traded in a couple of camera lenses that were doing nothing but collecting dust and "upgraded" to my first-ever photo printer. I went with the Canon imagePROGRAF PRO-300. Now, while it isn't the best of the best of the best (sir!), it’s certainly no slouch.

Its bigger brother, the PRO-1100, would’ve rocked my world—honestly, it would’ve kicked some... well, you know. But I couldn’t justify forking out five or six more Benjamins for the bigger toy. Think of it like the GMC Yukon versus the Acadia. Both are nice, but is the Yukon that much better? It’s got more bells, whistles, and legroom, sure, but it also comes with a higher price tag and the "joy" of higher operating costs. I stuck with the 300. Moving on.

At the time of purchase, the printer didn’t actually cost me a dime (thanks, trade-ins!), but the ink and paper? Cha-ching. The sales manager warned me to use it weekly, or the nozzles might dry out. The YouTube gurus echoed the sentiment. To me, it sounded like a clever ploy to sell more high-end paper, but I tried to be a good boy.

Keyword: Tried.

A power outage, a new internet provider, and a healthy dose of "yada-yada-yada" later, and the PRO-300 sat there for months collecting dust. Surpassing Christmas and Easter, my dreams of selling prints like a rural Ansel Adams were headed for the bin.

Then came the epiphany. Last weekend, while heading home from Mankato, I noticed a local "landmark" was missing. The "Trump Truck"—that artistically painted trailer parked next to the highway—was gone. No longer occupying its usual space, it left the roadside looking a little naked. I actually missed seeing it; it was a unique marker that reminded me I had less than two miles to go before the turn-off to Comfrey.

Anyway, the trailer was just a thing, but it was a unique thing. And that’s when Epiphany No. 2 hit me: I had captured that trailer last fall right before the Milky Way core set for the winter. I used it as a foreground for a one-of-a-kind sky shot. The rolling billboard might be gone, but I had preserved the digital negative for posterity.

Sidenote: I actually reached out to the White House and offered to send POTUS 47 a print. Never heard a word back. Their loss. I would’ve thought his ego would love seeing his name "written in the stars." Maybe he thinks it already is.

So today, I finally dusted off the ol' girl. I let the printer run a deep internal clean, updated the drivers, and sent the "Trump Truck" to the queue. While I need to brighten the file a hair for the paper's finish, Print No. 1 is officially ready for matting. The auction starts tomorrow—who wants to start the bidding?

Watching that print come to life reminded me to thank the Lord for the timing. That trailer was a temporary piece of history, likely destined to be painted over for the 2028 cycle. But for now, that moment is frozen.

Sometimes, we need to stop and smell the roses—or look at the roadside trailers—because what’s here today is truly gone tomorrow. The Apostle James didn't mince words about it:

“Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring—what your life will be! For you are like vapor that appears for a little while, then vanishes.” — James 4:14

Take some time to enjoy what’s around you, even if it’s just a silly truck with a name on it.

Let’s pray: Heavenly Father, thank you for the little things—the things that, like all of us, are here for just a moment. Help us appreciate what’s right in front of us today, so we don’t spend our tomorrows regretting what we missed. Amen.