I’d been a 35mm film photographer—one who knew his way around a darkroom—for quite a few years before my first SX-70 came to me in 1973. It arrived as a gift.
That single Polaroid camera changed how I thought about photography; it was my first single-lens reflex. It changed how I looked at scenes and people. It changed my finger-on-the-shutter timing. It changed almost everything about how I took pictures and how I viewed and shared them. It changed how I thought about giving.
And, without qualification, the SX-70 was an impeccable marvel of mid-century modern design. It was a perfect example of the marriage of luxury form and practical function.
I’ve written before about my adventures as a working actor in New York, living across the hall from a guy named Joseph R Manganello and managing one of his Penny Candy Stores. Manganello was a bit of a shady character, but boy-oh-boy was a good time.
After he closed his candy stores in New York, a buddy named John Flynn asked me if I’d be interested in helping him recreate the Penny Candy concept in Florida. I told him I’d help him find a location, supervise the buildout, and provide guidance on fixtures and inventory. I gave him a working timeline, and I told him what I’d charge for the project.
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The location John picked was next door to a custom jeweler. People called the jeweler Levitt. He was a bigger than life character. I never did know his first name.
John’s Penny Candy Store shared a restroom and inventory space with Levitt’s store. Over time, during the buildout, I got to know him—Levitt loved expensive gadgets and technology, He called them his man toys. Levitt used one of his toys to take a photo of John and me. And that was my introduction to the SX-70. I was blown away by the Polaroid’s brushed metal body and rich leather cover. Just holding it, I knew it was a game changer; I lusted for that camera.
The SX-70 was sold exclusively in the Miami market through 1972; then, in early 1973, it was sold nationally. The camera’s price—reflecting its development costs, cutting-edge technology, and target audience—was $180. Today, adjusted for inflation, that’s a stinging $1,100. And each film pack (10 exposures) retailed at $6.40, $41.00 today. An SX-70 wasn’t in my budget by any stretch of the imagination.
The camera made unique sounds—they remain front-of-mind today. Watch, you’ll hear them—while also learning a bit about the precision guts of the SX-70 machine.
After John’s Miami Penny Candy Store opened, I flew back to New York.
Later that year, I was offered a job by Jerome Kurtz. His office was on Madison Avenue; He was head of east coast sales and syndication for Gold Key Entertainment. The job was in Hollywood. I took the job, sublet my apartment on West 75th Street, picked up a one-way ticket to the West Coast, and headed off on a new adventure.
Months passed. I was driving an MG and having a wonderful time—the sun was bright in LA, there was a swimming pool outside my front door, and I was thin and tan. I’d given my NYC renter notice, closed the apartment lease, and called a moving company to tote my furniture and stuff west.
One evening, I arrived home from Gold Key and found a note under my front door: “You have a package in the mail room.”
Inside the box I found a Polaroid SX-70, a photo, and a note from John Flynn that simply read, “The store is doing well. I appreciate you helping me get started. John”
The photo was a picture of John sitting on the brown oak floor of his store in Miami. In front of him, spelled out in penny candy, was the word, THANKS.
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Today, you can buy completely refurbished SX-70s at Mint-Camera.Com—since 2009 they have made new and sold over 15,000 SX-70 Polaroid Land Cameras.
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