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RAM, ROM and Rheindeer

A Holy High Tech Holiday

By J. Elijah Bray

Tech Skeleton
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I finally achieved the ultimate dream of a 1960’s teenager – life in Hugh Heffner’s Mansion, a haven with every electronic entertainment device available including a wall of sound and pictures that eliminates the need or desire to ever go outside. The problem is I can’t operate any of it. I’m looking at a bank of silent screens knowing I’m just a few correct co-axle cable connections from sensory Valhalla. Yet I sit surrounded by this potential virtual reality, reduced to playing ‘Missile Command’ on my Atari – the same set-up I recently saw on exhibit at Smithsonian.

I recently went to buy a ‘television’. I walked the aisles in awe of the vast selection with screens up to 54”. I opted for a flat screen 32” beauty and whistled all the way home . . . . anticipating what the Pats game would be like in diamond vision. By the second quarter I realized something was wrong. The game had still not replaced my reflection on the flat black screen. A modern electronics primer – monitors ARE NOT the same as televisions. Monitors are like shovels, they don’t do anything by themselves – they need something on the other end. My ‘B’, I should have gotten more info from the salesperson.

A philosopher said that ‘Expectation is the death of serenity’. How can I attain contentment when I can’t record Desperate Housewives while watching the NBA at the same time? It was easier for Plato and Aristotle. They lived when fire and the wheel were the techno advancement biggies. You think Plato could have written while surrounded by blue lights constantly blinking 12:00 all around him?

The Christmas season only serves to focus on my technological deficiencies. I love Christmas – it’s the shopping I’ve come to dread. I blame Cal Poly Tech for my Yuletide anxiety. Everyone on my list wants items I can’t pronounce, never mind identify or actually purchase. When did Santa change from the jolly fellow who delivered wood toys at your house to an MIT techie who ships via FedEx?

Joker/jester controlling television
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Here are a few of my holiday high tech headaches. My sister-in-law wears power suits to her urban workplace, so I was surprised she only wanted a ‘blackberry’ for Christmas. I though she’d be overwhelmed that I got her an entire pint of them. I mean – they’re out of season, but I found a Southern California farm that ‘ships fresh’. I figured she’d be ecstatic. Wrong.

My mother-in-law wanted a scanner. I got her the one that transmits BOTH Fire and Police calls. I knew she’d be overjoyed. Wrong again.

I was doing better with my other sister-in-law who loved the digital camera. If only I hadn’t wrapped the damn three pack of color film. How did I know? Cameras need film . . . . right?

I was sure my brother-in-laws present would be a huge hit. I mean, he did say he needed to improve his equipment to help with his ‘power points’. Then why was he so angry when he unwrapped the rechargeable drill? It’s a Black & Decker for God’s sake!! Top of the line!

My lack of techno-know became blatantly obvious when shopping for nieces and nephews. Any child who can upgrade her computer memory during ‘nap time’ at Little Folks Day Care intimidates me. When I was their age I went with my dad to Rexall Drug to use the TV tube tester. What chance do I stand in buying the correct PlayStation 2 accessory they want for Christmas?

Gizmo
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All in all my gifts were as well received as President Bush at a same sex marriage convention.

A final word to the electronics industry – Stop the dam upgrading! I don’t want to upgrade. The obsolescence curve of new technology travels at F-16 speed. My techno learning curve moves at the pace of Fred Flinstone’s dino-mobile. We’re talking about someone who believes ‘down loading’ is when you place the computer shipping box on the floor.

My unsuccessful attempt to buy just the right gifts for the family has taught me a hard lesson. Next year we go back to a sure thing – fruit cakes for everyone.

About the author, J. Elijah Bray:
J. Elijah Bray (probably not his real name) lives on The East Side but is most proud of being raised in Oakland Beach – go figure.


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