The inflation-adjusted price for 1977-era camera equipment? I have a receipt!

I'm not a big fan of browsing for used camera equipment in antique stores. I can sum up the main reason why as being: "you'll never see a sign outside of an antique store that says, low, low prices!"

But still, over the years I have managed to find a few things that I hadn't already owned in my collection from a dwindling number of these shops. Mostly I find plenty of crappy plastic Kodak and Polaroid cameras in antique stores. The "good" photo stuff I've uncovered always seems to be in need of critical repair or missing an important part that renders its use impossible, but the sticker price asked for is, of course, always too high. 

There have been a small number of successful surprises, too. Here's one of them, but for a different, unforeseen reason.

After packing my Canon M5 body and a couple lenses into a bag, I got in my car and drove off for a few hours of summertime wander-driving and perhaps some image-making. I live in a small(ish) town in central Minnesota and west of me- about an hour or so - lie vast, flat, and nearly lake-less farm fields and open areas near the South Dakota border. 

The June weather was perfect that day for motoring, but not for taking photos; too sunny. Though I did manage to score enough shots of rusting agricultural buildings to justify my trip. Barely. Around noon I found a tourist town with endless vacation homes ringing an impressive body of water. The lake was frantically being cross-crossed by hordes of sport and fishing boats.

As I drove around to locate a fast food joint to cure my gnawing lunchtime hunger, I spotted a small antique store nearly hidden from view by a small grove of mature trees. The shop was located in a darkly weathered red brick building that must have once been some kind of service facility for automobiles or farm machinery back in the day. Aren't they all.

The shop wasn't too large or too small, but it was certainly crammed from top to bottom with the usual jumbled mess of "collectibles". After a fast cruise around the aisles to gauge how lucky I might be, I spotted the familiar form of one of those black flip-top lens cases from the 1970s. You've seen lots of these leather (or leatherette) cylinders. The all come with the same wire-stiff plastic shoulder strap set forever in a shape that cannot be comfortably accepted by any human shoulder.

I removed the lens case from the far back of a dark, dusty, and destroyed old wooden book case. I guided it out from its spot in the same way I imagine how explosive mines are removed from wartime roadways. Slowly, carefully. A tangle of other stiff plastic shoulder traps from a rouge's gallery of rusting and broken (but still expensive to buy) Kodak faux TLR cameras were draped around my intended target of interest. 

Score. A nicely-preserved 1970s Tamron 70-150mm f/3.5 two-touch zoom lens in Olympus OM mount. Only $10! 

Heck, I didn't need it but saw it as a cheap way to spend the rest of the afternoon shooting with the old optic. 

More fun than  putting on more road miles. 

I bought the unit  it and hustled my way back home. I put the lens through some deeper inspection and found small bubbles on one interior element. Other than that the little zoom resolved, meh, well enough when shooting some backyard subjects.

But. 

Olympus mount lenses have the mount release incorporated into the rear body of the optic. The Tamron did not have this and simply rotated off when you were done with it. LOL! Not sure if that was intended OR if that was yet another broken characteristic of an antique store buy.

And then.

The leather lens case needed some cleaning to remove fungus and dirt. When I opened the case, I noticed a folded piece of paper inside. 

It was an itemized receipt for a camera transaction in 1977! How very cool! 

[In the image to the left, I've blurred out the buyer's name and removed the address and phone number of the camera store.]

The second line listed the value of the lens I bought home when it was brand-new: $175 plus $8 for the Olympus OM mount. Knowing Tamron that was and Adaptall lens mount, and an early version as well.

The other prices seemed, well, "typical" for its day.  $149 for a used Olympus OM-1 SLR body, $179 for an Olympus 35mm f/2.0 Zuiko prime lens, 8 rolls of film, a neck strap and 8 PK 35 exposure processing mailers. The person paid with cash, a check most likely, and they were on their way.

If I remember my Kodak film product code letters correctly from my camera store sales experience around 1977, the EX and EH might be for 35mm Ektachrome film, while the KR should be indicate 35mm Kodachrome rolls. Both types are transparency (slide) films. Great stuff.

The whole kit came to $611.85. Well, for all those film goodies from quality photo industry manufacturers (no idea who made the neck strap) it didn't seem too expensive. Sure, higher that used prices for those items now, but, hmm? It seems cheap for pro gear and a lot of film. That's almost 50 years ago, though. Hmm?

What would the relative value of the equipment listed be worth in terms of 2024 dollars? A surprising lot of cash. like how surprising?

Using a (free) online inflation calculator, it was revealed that the relative value of this 1977 transaction today in would be $3,171 and going up. Gulp! Yeah, gulp. 

When I regained consciousness I paused to think on this. Three grand for an OM1 and a couple of lenses? Well, nowadays, a Sony a7R IIIA Mirrorless Camera with 24-70mm f/4 Lens Kit from B&H Photo will set you back $3,096. The OM1 in its day was a solid tier 1 camera and that 35mm f/2.0 lens had/has wicked good resolution at any f-stop. That camera and the lenses were considered pro level equipment. So?

If you're involved in photography you know we're all involved in a pricey hobby or profession. It would almost be cheaper to get your license to fly a Cessna aircraft than dabble in photography. 

Sure, cameras and lenses are remarkably precise devices and they are incredibly difficult and intensive to manufacture. We're so used to the value to us to have good gear that we can let the money flow too fast and too far away from us. Do we stop? No. 

I guarantee if a photographer finds a piece of paper in 2074 stuffed in a dusty, dirty camera bag for a used (now vintage) Sony a7 RIIA sold for $3,096 they'll find it funny how cheap that sounds.  Until they do the math.