CSotD: Emily Dickinson and the Digital Bog
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Today's Rudy Park touches on something I really worry about. Well, two things.
1. Are they going to change technology to the point where I can't get anything done anymore?
2. Am I just an old fart?
I refuse to get sucked into "new is better," but I'm also aware of times when the changes that upset me turned out to not be so bad after all. I think it's possible to reconcile those, but not without getting angry.
For instance, I resented it when they quit making vinyl and, if you wanted music, you had to switch to CDs.
But, hey, the transition wasn't seamless. (Remember the green Magic Marker thing? I wasn't the only one who was discontented.)
Anyway, a lot of the albums I liked never made it to CD.
And some of the ones that did, didn't survive the operation.
Case in point: Quicksilver's "Happy Trails" album.
Like the Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service specialized in long, rambling acid-soaked extended jams, and their take on "Who Do You Love?" is about 25 minutes of brilliance.
Until some spiritless dork misunderstands the liner notes describing the various movements of the jam and chops it up into "singles" for the CD, inserting three-second pauses in what was one continuous piece.
That's not an old man's rant about the warmth of vinyl.
It's a perfectly reasonable complaint about dumbass factory-line vandalism. It's about not 'getting it' in an industry in which 'getting it' is kind of paramount.
However, my music now is digital, and my turntable is packed away and I'm pretty much okay with it.
But I don't play "Happy Trails" anymore, because it breaks my heart.
So the latest headlines are that PCs are on the way out. Nobody wants them anymore, and so they're probably gonna quit making them.
Nobody wants them. All the cool kids say so.
Yeah, well, I'm nobody. Who are you? Are you nobody, too?
Emily Dickinson said that.
Your old road is rapidly aging. Please get out of the new one if you can't lend a hand.
Dylan said that.
And, no, I don't mean Dylan Thomas. Whoever he was.
Paul Simon said that.
Anyway, when laptops emerged, I said it was just fine for the kids, but I don't move around a lot and I need a real keyboard because I type more than a few lines at a time, so I didn't really see a need on my part for a laptop.
But I've been on laptops now for about four years and I still don't move around a lot, but my laptop has more memory and more speed than my towers ever did. And, while I haven't tested the theory, I understand they can be dropped these days, which didn't used to be the case.
Mine works great. I like it.
Especially since I attached it to a decent size flatscreen monitor so I can see what the hell I'm doing.
And added a wireless keyboard to prevent ergonomic issues.
And a wireless mouse, since you can't lay out pages with that stupid touchpad, unless you enjoy doing everything six times and still not hitting the tolerances you wanted.
Which basically means that I have a laptop that serves as a kind of narrow, horizontal tower.
And if I could attach all those things to something the size of a garage door opener that had the same memory and speed as my laptop, I guess that would work, too.
So, okay, you got me.
And, by the way, I love the fact that, on the rare occasions I do hit the road, I can grab my laptop and my cell phone and I don't even have to tell anybody that I'm not going to be in the office. The office is wherever I can get wifi and a phone signal.
But if the kids decide nobody wants USB ports, they'd better come up with a damn fine substitute, because I'm not laying out pages on a garage door opener.
And they also need to support older versions of things like Photoshop and InDesign forever, because Adobe has decided, instead of having the program on our hard drives, that they will all be up in the cloud.
It's hip, it's modern and, besides, it lets them force us to subscribe to the programs rather than own them.
I'll give up my CS5 when they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.
Not because it's better. Not even because it's cheaper.
Because it's already paid for. And, in a couple of years, when I'm living on Social Security, freelance work and cat food, that's gonna matter to this old fart, even if I manage somehow to remain semi-hip.
Meanwhile, as part of that effort towards achieving and maintaining semi-hipness, I'm working on the hopeful, optimistic theory that, while the innovations always seem to move faster than the speed of thought, things eventually catch up.
Sort of.
For some odd reason, you have to go listen to this on YouTube. They won't let me embed it here.
But at least it's out there, despite those damn punk kids who think they know everything.

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