Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts

March 31, 2011

They'll never know...

I'm sure this list could be created every few years about the next group of folks...

Here's my list of things that new folks will never know and that somehow seems sad to me.

They'll never know...
  • ...that stamps had to be licked.
  • ...artists used to fret over the order of songs on their album.
  • ...how to tell time on an analog clock.
  • ...the joys of being out of touch with the world.
  • ...what a dial tone sounds like.
  • ...how to call up a library and ask a question.
  • ...why a library catalog used to be a card catalog.
  • ...the joys of traveling to Canada to buy a special release cd for Sarah McLachlan because it's not released in the US.
So, what else should be added to this list?

    February 12, 2009

    I...like these...am out

    Today I'm linking to a pdf of the article on which I want to comment because the originating site has a whole lot of content that I'd rather not point out to you folks.

    I commented a while back to one of my regular readers that something was an e-ticket ride and mused afterward that the phrase is one that I'm guessing very few - if any of my students - would every know. I've never been to a Disney theme park - the originator of the e-ticket ride - but I certainly had heard the phrase enough times to use it here and there in conversation. Soon, however, such a thing will pass from our lexicon, and I'm guessing that it'll happen quite quickly.

    Today's article is titled "10 things your great grandchildren won't remember", and I think they're being awfully charitable in not saying "your grandkids", because lots of these things will be gone within the next decade or sotwoand I'm guessing that it won't take three generations for them to total artifacts.

    Take, for example, the record store (mentioned alongside the video rental store). I love the record store. I miss going to Everybody's Records or Ear-X-Tacy every month or so to check out what the new music is. I wouldn't always buy something, but I knew that the only way I could find the new music was by wandering into the store, by checking with the guys behind the counter, the girls who knew the bands that were new.

    But those days are long, long passed.

    Today I heard a song on the radio, caught a line or two that grabbed my attention, went home, googled the lyrics, hopped in iTunes, and owned the song without ever speaking to single person, without ever getting out my wallet opening a single door.

    Even the people at the record stores have been bypassed in favor of Amazon's recommendations, iTunes' genius feature, and blogs of top ten lists.

    The world is - as it has always been - changing, and none of us want to be caught making the best buggy whips around.

    Oh, and the title is because I'm out for a three-days weekend starting tomorrow. I'll try to have something ready for Monday, but no promises, folks.

    Just a heads up that the annual plea for donations to Pasta for Pennies is coming this week.

    November 20, 2008

    How I became an adult...if ever I did

    I'm not thirty three.

    Not in my head.

    I've read bits and bobs about the concept of self image, and I realize that everyone has an image of themselves in their head, a version of themselves frozen in time. I've no clue why we choose the version that we do - happiest time, most important time, most stressful time, self-loathing, self-love, whatever - but I do know that I am nowhere near the same age in my head as I am outside of it.

    When I speak to myself in my head, I usually start the mental sentence with "ok, kid", and the flash of myself that I get is typically somewhere at Wabash (speaking of which, much sadness this weekend). There's been a lot of water under a lot of bridges since then, however, and I'm starting to think that my mental image is shifting a bit older.

    The moment that it hit me was about a month ago, visiting a friend of mine (gotta get a nickname for him now that he doesn't live in my basement) and sitting on his back porch. It's a nice screened porch with a ceiling fan, and he's got a picnic table back there plus a decent glass-top table. I was sitting on the picnic table with my feet on the bench, and I had a pint glass in hand (water only, folks, I'm a fair lightweight). He came and sat down on the table as he waited for the grill to heat up, and I felt my self image jump a decade or so forward.

    I have no idea why that image, that feeling jumped me forward, but it did. Maybe it was the concept of sitting around and drinking with friends - not because it's the weekend and we're drinking, not because we're in college so we're drinking, not because it's a party - just because we're guys sitting there having a drink and talking with our wives inside for the moment.

    And it's been happening more and more at his house. See, he's got a kid.

    He (seriously, need a nickname - something starting with The...maybe The Best Man, because he was mine...maybe The Don because he was in Aberdeen with me, and they're nicknamed the Dons...maybe The Zamboni because his last name's close to that...The Ice Man - going with the Zamboni reference...I'll think on things)...

    Sorry...

    He and his wife stayed with us through much of the summer of '07 and moved out in September, just a few weeks before The Junior Best Man (yeah, I think I'm going with it) came into the world. I've had a lot of friends have kids - CoachSullivan, Calen, ColdNorthGamer, a bunch more - some of whom I've been lucky enough to have met early in their lives. But all of them have been kids that I've known here and there on visits into town.

    The Junior Best Man, however, is a kid that I'm getting to know through visits pretty much every week, sharing his first Christmas, his first Halloween, his christening, his development bit by bit. And I dig the kid. Maybe not for th first little bit - babies are pretty much lumps for their first while - but once a little personality started to develop.

    And I find myself re-enacting photos that I remember my parents having around the house. There are photos of me as a baby being held by their friends, people who I came to know as friends of the family and who I have photographic evidence of them having known me pretty much from birth, the same way that I know The Junior Best Man. I find myself taking the parts of the young adults from those photos, first holding the kid tentatively then a little more confidently. Feeding him while the parents look on, hoping that I'm doing everything right.

    It's an interesting place to be...enjoying the hell out of being the unrelated uncle but not wanting a kid of my own.

    I think I might just be edging toward being an adult.