Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts

Saturday, July 4, 2015

One of My Closest Friends for a Very Long Time:TV

my idea of heaven as a child


Until I have the birth of a new baby to report, I'll write frequently off and on about television and its impact on my life.  I should probably take the time to explain why television was such a huge deal to me even though I was limited to an hour of viewing time on school days and two hours a day on non-school days unless I was sick. While most of my contemporaries were children of technology, I was not. Early in my life, we did not have video games in our home. I played them on occasion at other people's houses, but because I didn't play them all that often, I wasn't very skilled at them. Who would be thrilled about playing a game that she was virtually guaranteed to lose every time she played?  Video games weren't usually my first choice of entertainment when I went to another child's house to play.

We had computers in our home since before I was born, as both parents used them for work purposes, and Matthew and  I were allowed to use them for research purposes and email. I then had the situation about which I wrote once in greater detail, in which I gave out too much information online to a child predator. My computer privileges were cut off for longer than two years to the point that in my early years of high school, I had to either take my brother's turn at doing the dishes for however many times we negotiated so that he would type a given paper for me (Matthew is a very skilled typist), or use an old IBM typewriter that my parents still had lying around to type the paper myself.

The school banned me from the use of technology as well. Since what happened did not happen on school computers or on school time, my parents could have challenged that ruling successfully, but they did not want me to have access to computers at home or at school. I was forbidden the use of technology everywhere.  Microfiche in our school library had just been discarded at and replaced  with a computerized version of the dinosaur  method of accessing ppast periodicals, limiting my access of past periodicals to those of which the school still had hard copies.

I wrote a research paper on the U.S. space program when I was a freshman. The paper ended with the  sentence: "Aerospace technology is increasing at such a rapid rate that man may soon land upon the moon." The sentence was a paraphrase from the most up-to-date volume on the subject of space technology that could be found in the library. I didn't cite it because the wording was sufficiently different that plagiarism could not have been charged based on the wording, and the sentiment was common knowledge at the time the book was published, which was 1965, if my recollection is correct.  

The library had thrown out much of its nonfiction section because the Internet had essentially rendered it obsolete. Magazine subscriptions were being cut back drastically as a cost-saving measure because the only magazines actually read by anyone other than faculty were Teen Vogue and Seventeen. The other pertinent information needed from the periodicals could be accessed from the Internet. The school didn't bother updating its volumes with much nonfiction because it wasn't being used. The library budget was spent on fiction and techological resources.

It was just an English paper, but the teacher gave me a failing grade for factual inaccuracy.  I challenged the grade on the premise that I was allowed to use only hard copies of books and magazines in the school library and wasn't granted access to the  public or university libraries because of my technology ban, which neither institution would have taken the responsibility of enforcing.  The English teacher looked in his spare time for a week, but could not find  a single book or magazine in the school library that made any reference to the apollo voyage. The appeal committee of the department chair and my counselor overrruled my English teacher, and the grade was , changed over the loud protests of the english teacher, to an A.  

Even though I won the challenge, my parents were upset with me for what they considered a smart-@$$ed maneuver, and grounded me from television for two weeks. I was expected to fly under the radar of trouble at school, and receiving an F grade on a paper, then challenging it on a technicality, did not constitute "flying under the radar" as far as my parents were concerned. It was at that point that my mother, who worked in upper-level administration for my school district,  instructed all school personnel to email her if either my brother or I as much as sneezed too loudly in class.  My brother still blames me for the Nazi-like regime under which we existed throughout high school.  I maintain that my brother was a much bigger trouble-maker than I, and my incident and my mother's action caused him to be extremely careful and sneaky to avoid ever getting caught.

I have complete respect for those of you who came of age in the '70's or '80's or earlier, who had to type all your papers with typewriters. Essays were bad enough, but the annotated research papers were killers.  I at least had the benefit of my teachers requiring APA or MLA formatting, both of which used parenthetical documentation. My dad has told me horror stories about the teachers who required the footnotes at the bottom of each applicable page. a student would type the page, then find that one of the footnotes did not fit on ther page. He would then have to re-type the entire page.  There was no making a few quick adjustments on a computer and reprinting. 

Matthew and I didn't get cell phones until high school. I was given one even though I was still under the technological ban. Due to a misunderstanding between myself and my parents, however, I was under the mistaken impression that our cell phone plan had unlimited texting. In the second month of ownership of my phone, I ran up a six-hundred-dollar bill through my own texting, not even counting anyone else's charges. I offered to take the six hundred dollars from either my long-term savings or my discretionary account, which was sizable for that f a child my age because I was well-paid as a part-time semi-professional musician. 

My parents refused my offer. Instead, my cell phone was replaced with a child's cell phone which had eight numbers I could call: both of my parents' work numbers (my dad's was somewhat moot, as he had so many of them, but he had an assistant at one location who could reach him at any time), both parents' cell numbers, our home phone number, andthe home and cell numbers of my Uncle Steve and Aunt Heather, along with 911, which was automatic with most models of kiddie phones. 

The kiddie phone  also had a major microchip feature that allowed either my parents or the 911 dispatcher to pinpoint my location very quickly. That feature, though I felt insulted at having it at the time, protected me from much worse injury than I would have otherwise sustained the time I was attacked in the school restroom. I don't buy into that line of which many peoplle are particularly fond about everything happening for a reason, but the sequence of events that forced me to give up my regular cell phone for that kiddie one was a bigger blessing than I'll probably ever know. 

Anyway, while other kids my age were playing video game [particularly the boys]. practically texting theit thumbs off,  and whiling away hours on Myspace and later Facebook, I was studying, practicing musical instruments, reading (which I loved and continue to love), participating to some degree in school sports, and watching television. Even though I probably watched less TV than the other kids who had technological privileges (they didn't spend as much time either studying, reading, or practicing musical instruments), TV was probably a much bigger factor in my life than it was in the lives of most of my peers.

Getting to watch the TV programs I absolutely had to see  became a major exercise in budgeting. The DVR became a life saver. There was an hour of Judge Alex that I couldn't miss. If Judge Alex appeared on any other program and I happened to know about it, I couldn't miss that, either.  Depending upon the year, there might have been Seventh Heaven, (sorry to make you gag, Knotty), Gilmore Girls, The Office, Roseanne reruns (which I usually saved up on the DVR for days when I was sick), and   the non-negotiables of House MD, South Park, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report.  At one time I was even a Law and Order junkie, though I had to stop watching SVU after the restroom assault incident. Any PBS-type documentary about the JFK-shooting or Watergate was also something I felt i could not miss, though my parents sometimes gave me a free pass on that sort of programming and allowed me to watch it without counting it against my tV viewing time. (Big Love I watched at Claire's house. We didn't have HBO, so she DVRed it for me.)

The programs I felt I must watch (though not all of them were on my list any given year) exceeded the nine hours a week during the school year, assuming there were no school holidays. Watching everything took some creativity on my part.  I knew which friends liked which programs, and I used them to record shows to watch with me when i visited them.  Additionally, my parents awarded us a one-time bonus of ten extra hours of tV viewing for each perfect report card, either quarter or semester. (Anything less than a perfect report -- even a minus behind an A on a mid-quarter progress report -- resulted in revocation of all TV privileges until the teacher reported to my parents that the grade was back to a full A.)

Even before the track and field injury and subsequent restroom assault, I was sick more than was the average child, and my parents placed no restrictions on TV when we were sick, at least in part because we had to display measurable or observable symptoms to stay home due to illness, and because neither of us, despite the extra TV privileges, wanted to stay home from school. I can remember being forced to remain at home or at my Aunt Heather's house, or having been forced to leave school during the day due to illness  on numerous occasions, but I don't once remember faking symptoms even during my half-year with Mrs. Moore. I remember not enjoying TV very much when I was sick, though it did take my mind off the discomfort to some degree.

Due to an extended babysitting experience with an incredibly lazy sitter, Matthew and I also had some early exposure to soap operas.  I'll share that at some point in the near future.

Just before I turned sixteen, in my final year of high school, my Godparents remodeled my room and placed a TV in it. They felt they had to give Matthew a TV as well to be fair. My parents relented because Matthew and I had shown ourselves to be responsible students. All limits were lifted.

In the upcoming days I shall expand upon my life as a TV junkie. I'll discuss programs i especially liked that, looking back, I cannot believe I ever liked. I'll talk a bit about how my political views were shaped in part by the TV I watched.  Perhaps most importantly, I'll share how I gradually came to the realization that, for me anway,  real life is actually better than television.

Happy Birthday, America. and Mr. President, I liked your soulful rendition of Amazing Grace. It took b@!!s to have done that.




Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Black Smoke and All: I'm Back in the Saddle Again, but the Pope Is Not

I attended class yesterday and today. I usually would still be in class on a Tuesday, but my gymnastics professor sent out a message asking those of us who could do so to attend a 7:00 a.m. session that would cover both the gymnastics and tumbling courses for the week.   I then had two lectures through which to sit, so I'm finished for the day.


       There go the Men in Red: galaxy defenders.

There was an apparently unsuccessful attempt at selecting a pope, sending the resultant black smoke into the air. It's good that the election happens in Italy and not in the U. S,, because our Environmental Protection Agency would never stand for sending clouds of  black smoke into the exosphere.

What would be done to here in the U. S. to signify a requisite vote (I believe it's a two-thirds majority that is needed for a pope to be chosen.)?  Maybe someone could extend a white cross upward and through the chimney of the Sistine Chapel for a "yes" vote, and a black cross for a "no confidence" vote. Perhaps it could be an auditory signal.  Something upbeat, such as "Everybody Wang Chung Tonight,"  "Celebration" by Kool & the Gang, "The Hallelujah Chorus" from The Messiah, or any one of hundreds of upbeat passages could be used.  If the vote didn't reach the required two-thirds majority, something like  Chopin's Funeral March in B Minor,  "Highway to Hell," something by Pat Boone,  or Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" might work.  I'm barely tapping the well here. Possibilities abound.

                                                         
                            Better  than smoke signals?

Or the signal wouldn't necessarily have be auditory. When Kim Jong Il was born, spontaneous rainbows erupted in the skies all over the world. Why no spontaneous ubiquitous rainbows for the pope? Or, on a less global note, something like the bat symbol that was projected in the skies above Gotham City when Batman needed to be reached could be used.  Depending upon how much info the cardinals and the church as a whole wanted us to have, they could project into the skies an image  of the elected pope, perhaps with a halo over his head. If the election were unfruitful, the highest  (but not high enough) vote-getter's image could be projected, surrounded by a red circle with red slash across the image)  from some tower in the Vatican City into the skies above Rome. This --telling us who was closest but got no cigar -- is probably more info than the red vestments want to give the masses, but something similar could be conjured.  Maybe the image of  a generic, faceless pope with the red circle/slash icon could be used. Or perhaps the signal for a no-two-thirds-majority  vote could be  a Batman-projected image of the devil, complete with horns; most fitting, I'd say. Or, and I think this is my best idea  yet,  is flashing The Joker  (Cesar Romero's version; he'll always be the real joker)  a la the  bat signal when a useless vote has been cast and counted.  I'm not saying any of my ideas must be used, or that they're even good ideas, but they are more creative and less environmentally damaging than the black and white smoke signal nonsense.  Even native Americans have given up on smoke signals, and some of them are quite primitive in how they conduct their affairs, with all their operating of casinos and kicking tribal members out randomly to avoid having to share casino profits.

Interestingly, cardinals over the age of eighty are not only barred from consideration as potential popes, but are not even allowed to be a part of the selection process in terms of voting. They are invited to attend a meeting of the conclave before the voting process begins, but then are asked to leave the Sistine Chapel.This practice seems a bit ageist. I'm as anti-gerontocracy as is the next non-Mormon, and I can see the wisdom that Mormons apparently cannot see in not appointing a person above the age of eighty to a Church's highest post,  but to assume that a person of the age of eighty or beyond is incapable even of making a sound judgement as to whom might best serve as leader of a church is an awfully broadly sweeping generalization. Medical insurance companies, among other organizations,  routinely administer assessments measuring a person's level of cognitive function related to age,   i. e. dementia. Perhaps the Roman Catholic Church should devise a similar system for its cardinals. I''m not suggesting that 98-year-old Ersillo Tonini be made the next pope, either because of his age or in spite of it. I know nothing of Ersillo Tonini besides his age and cardinal status. He could be the most lucid creature on the planet, or he could be  lighting brown kindergarten-sized Crayola crayons and smoking them, genuinely believing that they're Cuban cigars. I'm using Cardinal Tonini merely as an example.

Jamming devices have been put into place to prevent any of the cardinals from leaking any privileged info.  If the Catholic Church cannot trust its cardinals to maintain confidentiality, who in hell can they (or we) trust?  Can't  the cardinals just be told to leave their cell phones off for the duration of the conclave?  Furthermore, why in hell are we, the masses, traipsing into confessionals on a regular basis to confess our innermost secrets to men whose ecclesiastical levels are lower than those of cardinals  if Cardinals cannot maintain confidentiality  regarding matters of extreme gravity? Why should I assume my  parish priest can keep my confidences?

I have questions as to why the ballots must be cast in secret, but perhaps such a thing is for the best. Even though  the church would somehow wish for us to believe otherwise, popes are every bit as human as is the next person. It might be difficult for a pope not to be influenced in decision-making processes by knowledge that a cardinal had cast a vote for or against him.

The cardinals are supposedly not voting again until tomorrow morning in whatever time zone the Vatican City happens to fall. Why? What more important things do they have to do than to elect their next leader?  Are they all so intent on catching the tonight's episode of "Celebrity Wife Swap" in real time that they must postpone the next vote until tomorrow morning? Give me a freaking break.

And one final thought/question/whatever?  These men are presumably dining on the people's dime. My guess is that they're not passing around jars of  of peanut butter and jelly and spreading the contents on bread all by themselves.  Someone roughly equal in skill to Giada De Lorentis or Mario Batali  is probably, even as I type,  preparing food for the cardinals that will make the food I will serve at the wedding I will most likely someday have look like In & Out Burger or school cafeteria fare by comparison.  In the name of feeding the hungry and clothing the poor, the cardinals owe it to themselves and to what they profess to believe to get this job done as expeditiously as possible  so that no more resources than absolutely necessary are wasted on this conclave.


           I'm throwing my full support behind this man.

My vote, even though I don't actually get a vote and my candidate is not considered eligible, is still for Father Alberto Cutie.  Just look at him. Is he pope material,or what?


# and amen