Norem Ipsum remembers the VCR

When I was 16 years old my Aunt called to ask me if I'd be willing to go over to her house and teach her how to use her VCR. She treated it seriously. Like she was hiring a babysitter, providing a set time and payment. She said she had tried to figure it out herself, and so had my uncle. But they just couldn't get the hang of it.

A whole generation of people could never figure out how to program their VCRs. For me, it really wasn't any different than programming an alarm clock, yet people seemed to be able to get out of bed in the morning. Maybe it was the end time that threw them. You program an alarm clock and you're not telling it to wake you up at a given time and then stop after an hour. Although the snooze function might do that. And if you ignore it all together it will shut off eventually. Or at least mine does.

My aunt had a onscreen programmable VCR, so it was a breeze to me to explain to her how to record her favorite shows. The first one my family had consisted of these tiny buttons and a green digital display. It was also in mono.

After onscreen displays, the VCR+ was introduced. Now, the ads claimed, you didn't have to know how to program a VCR, all you had to do was enter a code. Open up your TV Guide, find the listing for the show you want, and enter the seven digit code and you were good to go. I had a VCR+ and it always seemed easier just to program the damn thing. Besides I liked to have my timer start a little earlier and go a little later to be sure that I wouldn't miss anything.

Today's DVRs really aren't that much different that the VCR+. The programming is on screen, only instead of pulling out a TV Guide and putting in the number, the name of the show is already onscreen for you. It saves you a step. But you still have to do some manual tweaking. Set 60 Minutes to record during football season if you don't believe me.

The other day a friend asked if I remembered when video stores used to rent VCRs. It was in the early 80s when not everybody had one, and it wasn't that uncommon for someone to rent a VCR and a few movies, in much the same way that someone might rent a video game system and some titles today. But here's the catch. Almost everybody who records television is renting a machine today. It's digital, but it's still a video recorder. Whether you have cable, DirecTV, Dish or pretty much any other service, you are renting a DVR. Was it the ease of programming that got people to forget that they were pretty much getting the same thing with their VCRs? Or was it the ability to record and rewind live TV?

Recently I started shopping for a stand alone DVR. Sure there's Tivo, but you need a subscription service to use that. And really, why do I need to pay someone so I can record my shows? I don't need to be able to do it from my computer or cell phone. I just want to be able to record the beautiful signal I get through the air with my HD antenna.

They're not that common, but I did find a couple models. It seems like most will record directly to a DVD or DVD-RW, which would answer another complaint I have about modern video recorders, in that they don't make it easy to archive stuff. The cable and satellite company's DVR set up to record and erase after viewing. The DVD burning models are relatively cheap. But if you want a DVR with a hard drive get ready to spend some serious cash. And I never could find one that had a hard drive and a DVD burner.

So here I am, wondering how we got here. How we went from having $99 VCRs to endlessly renting DVRs through our cable/satellite companies or paying for a Tivo subscription service. I know I can do it on my own. But because everybody is following this model, it makes it really difficult and expensive to get that new improved VCR.

characters in a coffee shop

Things I have observed at my coffee shop in the last week:

A guy that looks incredibly similar to my friend Jon.  I almost want to wave him to my table, before realizing that the guy has at least 10 years on Jon and looks like he spent some time with Ted Kaczynski and is only retreating from isolation temporarily to have coffee with some of his old army buddies.  And Jon lives in Chicago.  What's really surreal about it is that he keeps looking at me like he knows me too, which made me wonder what kind of character I represented to him.

Then there's the old man with a voice like Tom Waits.  He's saying filthy things to a woman, and even though I can't see her, occasionally I'll hear her voice.  She tells him to be quiet.  To calm down, which is polite considering all the raunchy things he keeps saying he's going to do to her.  Eventually one of the employees comes over to tell him that he is going to have to leave if he can't settle down.  He's quick to apologize and begins to gather up his stuff.  I thought my friend had a better suggestion.  She told me I should go over to him and whisper in his ear that he's a very naughty monkey.  I missed my chance on that one.  But once he left I leaned forward to try to get a look at the woman who was sitting across from him, and there was nobody there.   I stop laughing.

Yesterday I saw a short, pudgy lesbian version of my friend Pat.  She had his clothes on, and wore glasses like his.  Even her hair was similar.  But Pat would never carry around a book titled "I'm A Man."

Then there's today.  I see the dog first, which can't be helped.  You don't normally see dogs in coffee shops, or at least not the one I frequent.  It was a nice looking golden retriever, and when I took a closer look it became pretty obvious that it was a seeing eye dog.  Then I noticed the guy next to the dog, who was wearing sunglasses and in a wheelchair.  I get back to my work and don't pay that much attention to him.  After a while I look up and see the writing intern I recently worked with heading my way, which was right by the door.  I called out to her to say hi and I asked what she was up to.  She was in a big hurry and nudged towards the guy in the wheelchair and told me that she was working as his photography assistant and had to get going.  I took a closer look and verified the sunglasses and the seeing eye dog, but I also noticed a camera around his neck.  So the writer I used to work with is now a photographer's assistant for a blind guy. 

It takes some strong coffee.

Last night I had Ben and Jerry's and didn't eat the whole pint.

Last night I walked to the convenience store on the corner, bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's and didn't eat the whole thing. Usually this is impossible. I'll take a spoon and carefully skim the top of the ice cream and try to get equal portions of goodness in each bite. I'll marvel at how much better rich chocolaty ice cream is over its frozen yogurt counterpart, and eventually when at least a quarter of the pint has been consumed, and...err...57% of my recommended intake of fat, I'll put the pint away. But no matter how far back in the freezer I put it, I can't bury it from my mind. I know it's there because it tastes damn good. And this is where the games come in. Maybe I'll take my spoon and just have one more bite. Because it's only one, and really, having another taste isn't so bad because if I look at the pint it still looks like I have a quarter of it left. Okay, maybe a third. But it's at least a third. By this time it's started to thaw, making it more difficult to shave a tiny portion off the top. This is where the heaps of chocolate and peanut butter and caramel goodness really start to show their character in large tablespoon amounts. And I start to think about how I really don't do this that often and that maybe it's not so bad. I'll hit the gym tomorrow.

Okay, let me say this again. Last night I had Ben and Jerry's and didn't eat the whole pint. Does this mean I'm getting more responsible about my health? Have I finally comprehended the 2,000 calorie a day diet? Am I trimming back the excesses of yesterday and embracing the mantra of "less is more?"

Or maybe I make the mistake of picking up Everything But The... instead of Chunky Monkey.

Classical, you are not a good writing soundtrack

I'm not adverse to classical music. I'm really not. I enjoy the masters of classical music. Or at least I respect them. But I'm not about to go home and put on a little Mozart or Bach. It's just not going to happen. At least not more than a couple times a decade.

I seems like classical music must have been some sort of compromise at my favorite coffee shop. Every morning for the past few weeks I've heard nothing else. It doesn't seem like the baristas are choosing their classical carefully either. I'd imagine it's required no more thought than selecting a channel from a subscription service.

On the days that I've forgotten my earbuds I don't stick around long. The music makes me tense. Like it's the soundtrack to some action that should be happening among all the people typing quietly at their laptops. Guy with cookie jumps up and steals the laptop from soy latte girl and bolts for the door, weaving his way through oncoming traffic and bouncing off a beer delivery truck parked across the street. Enter Jack Bauer who repels down from the video store building in an attempt to get the contents of the laptop's hard drive. Now that would be more like it.

There's no such action today, but the soundtrack has changed. We're on a light rock and soul channel. Most of the songs sound only vaguely familiar, but I like it. I'm at ease. I can think.

Again, nothing against classical music. If I lived 300 years ago and had the means, I'm sure I would have dug it as I dipped my quill in my ink. Oh wait, that's right. There was no prerecorded music back then. No wonder it doesn't work.

The future is now. You are here.

Google has a new product that it is rolling out to mobile devices today, as well as personal computers in the near future. They call it Latitude, and it will give you the ability to google people in ways straight out of a science fiction novel.

The technology has been out there for a while. iPhone users were quick to discover apps like Loopt, which essentially does the same thing as Google's new application. Loopt worked on a small scale though, allowing you to see other iPhone user's physical map location as long as they gave you permission. But with Google involved the difference is in scope. Soon this won't be a novelty app, but will be something very real. Your friends and family can track you, sure. But what happens when your employer has you sign an agreement to be tracked as a condition of employment? And when this gets in the hands of a jealous lover?

It's all about control. The future is here, and to a large extent you can decide how much you want to participate in it. But people become conditioned. They post things to the internet for all to see that might have previously found its home only in a well-hidden diary. Is a location finder going to be any different?

Sure, this could be a lot of fun. Exploring a new city with a group and friends that all have their location finder turned on could provide a sense of security, as well as autonomy. You could feel free to do your own thing, but know precisely where a friend is if you need to find them. Bar hopping, wedding receptions, vacations, etc would be a blast. It would also be great if you were going on a long road trip. I drove from Minneapolis to Bowling Green, Kentucky recently and would have gladly turned this on so the people I was visiting could see where I was at and adjust their schedules. Sure, using a cell phone to call and say that you're an hour or two away really that hard to do, but this type of tracking could be provide an added sense of security. You go missing and your friends can see where you're at.

I don't know. I have over 100 friends on Facebook and have probably talked to less than 10 of them in the last month outside of Facebook. With this, I can't imagine I'd ever leave it on for long. But then, I'm sure I'll be conditioned by society like everyone else. "Todd is at the corner of West Lake Street and South Bryant Avenue. Here's a map."

Is now a good time to go off the grid? Ha. Could you do that even if you wanted to?

Soup Kitchen 2009

It seemed like a good idea. Free breakfast for everyone in America. Just stop by Denny's between 6am and 2pm. Immediately I texted two friends that I usually have breakfast with. My schedule was fairly open on Tuesday and the promise of the Grand Slam breakfast sounded appetising, even though I hadn't been to a Denny's in at least seven years. I thought I'd stop by around 10am, but as soon as I hung up the phone with my friend on Tuesday morning I started to worry. East Lake Street. Free breakfast. Would there be lines? And why are we both driving separately?

Turns out we didn't really have to worry about parking. When people expect free, they expect free, and there were plenty of parking meters available in directly in front of Denny's. The line was another story and I couldn't help but have flashbacks to seeing Obama in February of last year and waiting in line for hours in the freezing cold. But that was to see the future president. This was for the Glam Slam breakfast.

I'd guess that there were about 50 people waiting. If temps hadn't been in the single-digits and we had dressed more appropriately I think we would have stuck it out. As it was I couldn't really imagine that once we were done shivering in the cold we'd be greeted with the relaxing breakfast we had begun to crave. One with eggs and pancakes, yes, but also with high doses of wi-fi and time killing. In the end we went to one of our normal breakfast haunts. And looking around, I'd have to guess we weren't the only ones to arrive via Denny's.

The news media is reporting positive things about Denny's free breakfast. Apparently they served over 2 million people yesterday and averaged 130 Glam Slams an hour. But will people think of Denny's next time they're hungry for breakfast and come back to pay full price for it? Or is just a sad reflection of the desperate times we live in?

Vic Chesnutt and Elf Power, 400 Bar 1/31/09

Vic Chesnutt remains one of my favorite singer songwriters. His first four albums for the Texas Hotel label in the early 90's are nothing short of incredible. Little, West Of Rome, Drunk and Is The Actor Happy? stack up there among the greats. Twisted lyrics. Brilliant revealing songs. Interesting character studies. And a song called Lucinda Williams that served as an introduction to her for many of Vic's fans, including myself. There are worlds to discover in Vic's music. Especially on those early records.

Shortly before Vic released his Capital records debut, About To Choke, he became the subject of the Sweet Relief charity album which works to provide health insurance benefits to uninsured musicians. It gave him short term exposure to the alternative rock scene. But is was brief. It's hard to put a label on Vic, and he's not exactly radio friendly. He's occasionally alt-country, but I cringe at calling him that. Sometimes he's acoustic, but not always. Really, what do you call a man who is known to play trumpet with his mouth with no trumpet in sight? Eclectic? For sure. But if we're talking music labels, singer-songwriter is the only one that really fits.

After About To Choke, Vic came out with The Salesman And Bernadette, an album he recorded with Lambchop, and which to this day remains one his most underrated albums. Promos came out on Capital, but the actual record was postponed and eventually released on Capricorn. Since that time Vic has released several albums on various independent labels with a vast array of collaborators and producers. Van Dyke Parks. Bill Friswell. And now Elf Power.

I didn't expect much from Dark Developments. My expectations for new Vic albums has been tempered a bit. It's not that North Star Deserter, Ghetto Bells and Silver Lake aren't good albums. They're probably great, and I really need to go back and listen to them. They just don't sound much like those classic first four albums I've come to appreciate. Neither does Dark Developements, but this album is quite good, and is sounding even better to me after the show I saw at the 400 Bar. Elf Power were the perfect band to be backing him up at the show, providing a muscular foundation to allow Vic strum his guitar frantically and wail like and old bluesman. But the best part of the show came during the encore. Two songs from Little. A song from The Salesman and Bernadette and a new dig at George W. Bush called "Legacy."

Catch him on this tour.

Setlist:

Mystery
Little Fucker
And How
Teddy Bear
We Are Mean
Stop the Horse
Bilocating Dog
The Mad Passion of the Stoic
Phil the Fiddler
Old Hotel
Independence Day
Rabbit Box
Legacy