In the past, I owned a couple of different TV readers, and they worked quite
nicely.  However, they were quite expensive.  Currently, I prefer to simply
scan things on one of my scanners and then use computer software such as
"magnify" (built into Windows) or other software graphics utilities to
examine what is on the screen.  Also, I use a "screen reader" to read text
based files (e-mail, Word, notepad, etc) and surf the net.

I know where your friend is coming from.  I use mostly Canon or Fuji
point-and-shoot cameras.  While I can discern a small amount of what is
displayed, I tend to use a lot of "blur interpretation" to imagine what I'm
photographing.  I also use a Canon DSLR ocaisionally, but it's harder to
"guesstimate" what is in the image plain, so, like your friend, I miss the
real-time LCD image.

The hardest part of being a visually-challenged photographer is to get
people to leave me alone.

Imagine this:

A guy trucks out of nowhere with a guide dog.  He pulls up in front of a
statue, interesting little park, scenic view etc, and whips out a
point-and-shoot camera.  After turning on the device, he holds the camera
out in front of himself and clicks a shot;  then he holds the camera close
to one eye and scrutinizes what he has just captured -- probably even
funbling with the zoom button and arrow keys to examine closely his
handiwork.

He has a chagrinned look, so you know he isn't satisfied with his shot, and
your "good Samaritin" alter ego starts to kick in, and, as the photographer
shuffles around to face the scene in front of himself at a slightly
different angle, you step forward and ask gently "Can I help you?" just as
the photographer gets ready to press the shutter release.

The photographer seems to ignore you momentarily while he finalizes his
picture, but then he replies, "No, I'm doing alright, but thanks for the
offer."  Then he holds the LCD up to his eye again and starts to examine his
image.

Somewhat perplexed why your offered assistance has been rejected, you try
again.  "Perhaps I can tell you what you've got there," and you reach out to
take the camera in order to take a look at the back.  But the blind guy
moves the camera away from you, somewhat protectively, and once again says,
"No, that's alright.  But, perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me which
direction the sun is coming from?"

"Well," you look up for a moment, "it's more or less in front of us."

Now, you think you've at least done a bit to help, so you step back and
watch curiously for a moment or two, as the photographer holds his hand up
in front of his face and moves it around in a more-or-less random fashion.
After a few seconds, the hand movement becomes a bit more systematic --  
moving a few inches back and forth at approximately the same horizontal
level.

Once again, your more idealistic self kicks in and you step forward, and you
ask, "What are you doing?  Can I be of more assistance?"

"No, thanks," the photographer replies.  "I'm just trying to pinpoint where
the sun is."

"But, I told you it's just in front of you," you reply somewhat crestfallen
that your word hasn't been taken as the gospel truth.

"Yes, and I appreciate your help," the blind guy says, "but I need to know
exactly where it is, and how bright it is, so I'm just doing a bit of a test
to help me visualize the scene in front of me."

"Well, it's ..." you start to say, but the photographer breaks in and says
"Thank you for all your help, but I really can manage on my own."

Somewhat taken aback, you decide to leave, and you vow never again to try to
"help" this insolent buffoon who can't seem to appreciate your charitable
offer.

Now, don't get me wrong, I really do appreciate all the help that is
offered.  The point I'm trying to make here is that the general public has
this impression of blind people -- that they are somehow like small children
and need help to do the simplist things -- so the public has trouble with
the idea that a blind person can do something as complicated and visually
oriented as taking a picture on their own.  But, I think most professional
photographers will vouch that taking a picture is more mental than visual:
you need to know what you are taking a picture of before you can see the
image in the view-finder and press the shutter release.  Interruptions in
the mental process, even small well-intentioned ones, can really complicate
the craft of image-making.

I guess what I'm trying to say with this little vignette is that the
public's perception of a blind person's limitations is more of a handicap to
a blind photographer than his or her actual loss of vision.  As long as the
will to capture beauty is present, means and technique can always be
devised.

Take Care,
Dudley