Thursday, April 1, 2010

No domo arigato, Mr. Roboto

Machines are taking over my space, large smooth plastic and metal casings with wires and cables at the ready to catch and hold dust bunnies. To be fair, technology and the internets have allowed me to work from home sans big girl pants that button and tight shoes for years, close to a decade. I’m home for package delivery slips and the repairman. I can grocery shop and hit the gym in the middle of the day, have lunchtime sex.

But at what cost? Asked the boss for an external monitor for my 15” laptop. It arrived today, a 21-inch, comically large widescreen that takes up half or more of my work space (and I like a clean work space). May relegate the unopened box to the basement and simply squint.

My cable telly provider will soon retire analog channels in favor of digital. I’m not much of a TV watcher, never subscribed to premium channels or On Demand programming options. I’m good with just TBS for reruns of “The Office” and CNN for my Andy Cooper. But as more and more channels slowly fade away (I miss “America's Next Top Model” marathons on Oxygen) I requested a digital converter box. It’s the size of a small flying saucer and requires two inches or more of free area on all sides to properly "ventilate". The goddamn thing breathes. I haven’t the space or energy for it. Calling Comcast in the morning.

I’m happy old school. I like the smell and smudge of pencils on paper, grainy stock used to hand write a thank you or amorous note. I prefer movies in a theater (the home experience just isn’t the same) and was last on the block to buy a DVD player.

The manfriend (lovely and thoughtful) set up an internet radio receiver in my place. He said, "everyone needs music," and knew my cassette-CD-phono combo was on last legs and sans antenna. It’s wonderful, only downside that I have no player for my vast CD collection (other than the car) and digital music takes time to organize, not to mention storage space. Remember liner notes, the smell and feel of vinyl. And photo albums? When people talked instead of texted? ...sigh...

I’m Laura Ingalls Wilder. She used a hot nail to curl her bangs.

I tend to perseverate over technology, what’s working as it should and what’s not. I simply want the light switch to illuminate the dark and water to run from the faucet (hot or cold on demand). I don’t want to know why or how or from whence it came. I don’t need to see how the sausage is made, just enjoy its meaty goodness.

Thanks to the tiny Ativan I just swallowed to remove myself from this brave new world, sleep is still mostly low-tech.

I miss Conan O’Brien before bed.


Don said...

I learned a new word: perseverate.

Things change, and even this engineer is done with that. I got into my career out of curiosity and now, curious about other things, I can do without anymore new tech.

But internet radio is a nice idea. Find a channel you like and let it rip. But you need a CD player.

Jodie Kash said...

Don, my doll, internet radio is the bomb. Can listen in to BBC 1, 2, 3, 4, the local college indy station (my new fave), at Christmas found a station out of NYC playing holiday classics covered by the oddest of artists.

And yea, you hit it. I’m more interested in the things outside that smell and feel good, not the things indoors that buzz and light up. Huh.

archer said...

I don't need Ativan. I'm high on life. And Xanax.

The mad woman behind the blog said...

Oh, there are days that I wish for fewer gadgets/services/technology.

More power to you for holding out.

Do you think they make Ativan for toddlers?

BTW, thank you for the regulars comments. I look forward to reading them.

Lisa said...

I think that you and my dad are the opposite. If there is a new technology out there, he has not only researched it, but is probably about to buy it. The other day I was trying to think of some new technology that I knew of that he didn't have, and I came up with a 3d TV. He quickly replies, "Well there's nothing you can PLAY on a 3D TV." Obviously, he's thought about it.

Simply Suthern said...

It seems we have become high tech maintenance folk.

You brought back a memory of when I used to draft on paper. I do it all on computer now but I miss the smell of the graphite pencil and my pink pearl eraser.

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