The Tin Lizard

Keeping The Music Coming I

I recently began the process of digitizing my CD collection.  Music stored as electrons is the future.  The compact disc is already outmoded, a fact that was brought home to me lately by touring the Washington DC car show last month -- many cars, especially those with a younger demographic, don't offer a CD slot any longer.

I approach the task with reluctance, because I've already made this "tech-tonic" shift several times in my lifetime.  LP records were the only medium for buying music in my high school and college days, but even then their problems were legion:  too easy to scratch and warp, too voluminous and heavy. 

The easy access to tech gear during my short stretch in the military led me to the magic of reel-to-reel tape; after mustering out I could (and did) put as many as five or six LPs on a single reel of tape, a medium that was less subject to damage.  Not too much later, the cassette was perfected enough to become a hi-fi medium, and it had the added advantage of being playable in the car, so for a few years I used both tape media indiscriminately (but I still had to buy LPs, record them, and discard or sell the LPs).

Finally came perfection:  the compact disc.  More compact, almost indestructible.  I remember buying my first ones in 1986.  Ultimately the weight and volume of my old tapes started to become a nuisance (not to mention the high cost and decreasing availability of equipment on which to play them).   I began at some point to replace my taped music with CD versions of the same;  recording to CD wasn't possible then for the consumer.   About a dozen years later, I just pitched out all the tapes - many of which hadn't been played in ten years - and donated my last reel-to-reel tape recorder.

So the CD has had a surprisingly long run for a consumer technology - almost 30 years - but clearly now, its time is past.  No more clutter of physical media at all, just little blips stored on your computer, or better yet, in the "cloud."   (Well, OK, yes, you can transfer those blips to tiny physical media like SD cards, music players, or flash drives when/if you want.)

Alzheimer's At The Polls

On this morning's television news I saw a brief snippet concerning an elderly woman somewhere in the frozen northland (Minnesota, maybe?) who suffers from Alzheimer's and who is being investigated for, and may be charged with, voter fraud.  I can't find this report now anywhere online, but if it got the facts right, she filed an absentee ballot thinking she couldn't get to the polls, and subsequently appeared in person and voted.  It's apparent that under these conditions, it's unlikely that this woman will really be prosecuted, or sent off to spend five years in jail. 

But maybe someone ought to be - someone at the polling place.  How would it be possible for her to vote as an absentee and also vote in person?  In my jurisdiction, an absentee voter is noted in the electronic lists of registered voters, and would be precluded from voting again.  Something went wrong here.  It should give us pause about pie-in-the-sky plans for online voting, though. 

This incident reminds me of a book I just read:  Turn of Mind, by Alice LaPlante, offers  interesting insights into Alzheimer's.  It's told from the point of view of a woman suffering from that condition, and you see - in a ficitonalized way, of course - how her mind fluctuates from full recall, to partial, to none at all, through the early, middle, and late stages of the disease.  In the book, interest is maintained by the literary device that our narrator's best friend has been murdered.  The police think the narrator did it; they reappear occasionally to interview her, hoping to spark a confession from her.  Turn of Mind makes for an interesting tale, and offers a novel perspective on Alzheimer's, so it's worth a read.   

The Mystery of Mystery Writers

It recently struck me how hugely popular the fiction genre of "mystery" really is.  (I take the term to include all the subtypes like police procedurals, etc. -- anything in which a crime, usually a murder, is being solved.)

Just yesterday in my morning paper, two different authors were mentioned, each of whom has written well over a dozen novels in the genre, and neither of whom I'd ever heard of (though I do read "mysteries" occasionally).  And it's also very typical for the same paper's weekly reviews to include at least one new entrant in the genre. 

Since I was in my community library anyway, I took occasion to look at the separate section they devote to the "mystery/detective" novels, and was amazed to see it rivals the space devoted to all other "general" fiction. The same, I know, was true in bookstores in the day when that antiquated style of merchandising emporium still existed. It hardly does any longer.

OK, so what's behind the inexhaustible demand?   I enjoy a good mystery now and again. There's a certain entertaining challenge in reading one, because in print the author can always just hide or downplay key details to be brought to the fore when he/she wants.  On the other hand, on film or television, the medium requires stories to be simplified, and extraneous details eradicated, so a weird detail stands out like a sore thumb just by virtue of being mentioned; besides, we always know "who dunnit" because certain actors always play the bad guy.

I suppose most of us enjoy the idea of a little suspense, a little matching wits with the writer.  But I would also guess that another important reason there seem to be so many mystery writers, and so many mystery novels, is that the typical such novel can be read in just a few hours.  Those who choose to fill their reading time with mysteries will need a lot of them.

Geezinslaws

Do you ever have odd flashes from the past?  I did this morning.  Suddenly, I wondered "whatever happened to the Geezinslaw Brothers?"

They were a country duo.  I recalled them doing a tune back in the 1960s that achieved some play at the national level.  They weren't a big favorite of mine, so I have no idea why they came to mind.  When I thought about them, though, I figured they had probably been one of those one-hit wonders who stopped performing years ago.

Thanks to the miracle of Wikipedia, we can find out about these important historical issues.  It turns out they were kind of a one-hit wonder as far a "national" exposure was concerned, but they continued to perform and even put out an album as recently as 2005.  At some point they made a major name change, from "Geezinslaw Brothers" to "Geezinslaws."  

I'm guessing one of their early LPs would probably be worth a little something today to fans and collectors, but I'm not regretful, since I never owned one of their records. 

Now, my collection of the first Mad magazines, from issue number 1 through about 30, that's a different story.  Growing up as a military kid, I had to toss those magazines as "excess baggage" prior to one of our many moves from place to place.  A quick check online tells me that Issue #1 isn't currently on sale at any price; but issue # 13 could sell for over $1,000 in "near-mint" condition.  That's regretful! 

Can We Still Have "Choice" In Books?

I recall in the mid-1980s when I passed, and stopped into, my first Borders store.  It was brand-new, though tiny by the standards of what a typical Borders would later become.  But it stood out like a beacon because it had books -- thousands of different books, books on all subjects, books by writers you might not have heard of, books that weren't just the latest half-dozen bestsellers.  This was a revolutionary concept at the time, when many typical chain bookstores carried only what they knew would sell pretty readily (i.e., bestsellers, maybe a few mysteries, cookbooks, and picture books), and independents focused almost exclusively on one subject area (politics, mystery, children's). 

After 25 years, the Borders era (which included imitators) ended.  I was in a "general-interest" bookstore just a couple of weeks ago, right after Christmas, and a pretty depressing place it was.  It wasn't so much that it was empty of customers, but the evidence of what bookstores have become since the advent of the e-book and the demise of Borders.   There aren't any books any more!   OK, maybe still a few more than you would have seen in such a store thirty years ago, but one floor is now devoted increasingly to e-readers, a limited selection of best-sellers, remainders, CDs, and DVDs, while the upper floor's stock of books is greatly diminished.  In short, it's no longer a place to browse.

Does it matter?  Can't we accomplish the same thing if we browse on the internet and order our picks delivered to our Kindle or Nook or iPad?    Yes and no.   A recent opinion makes the argument that in picking what to read from the immense number of books published every year, we fail to exercise our choice.  We gravitate toward what we know, both in terms of authors and subject matter.  This is a natural human tendency.  When confronted by an infinite variety of choices, whether in book titles, pizzerias, or music, the choice of the familiar is easier, quicker, and comforting.

Unfortunately for diversity, the growth in popularity of tablets and e-book readers continues unabated.  But searching for titles in the Amazon store, or on sites like Goodreads, where algorithms offer up suggestions for things you might like, based of course on what you've bought or liked in the past, only exacerbate the tendency to go with what you like, know, and agree with.  (The same tendency has been much noted in the reading of news and political opinion, with rather unhealthy effect.) 

I'm a part of "the problem" myself, because I have pretty much stopped buying "real" books in favor of electronic ones.  So I struggle a little harder to find reading that might offer a new perspective or different subject matter.  The one answer I've found is the limited space devoted to book reviews in newspapers and some magazines.  It's imperfect, but better than nothing.  Maybe those media should consider devoting more space and effort to book reviews; or maybe bookseller websites should do more to review a greater variety of works.     

The Other Romney - Wendell?

A day or two back, my wife and I were watching an old (1949) Christmas movie that we somehow hadn't seen before:  "A Holiday Affair," with Janet Leigh and Robert Mitchum.  It wasn't too bad, a fairly typical romantic comedy of that era, but at some point I looked up and said, "say, isn't that Mitt Romney there?"

The actor in question (the guy from whom Mitchum had to steal Leigh) looked, especially in profile, the spitting image of Mitt - same haircut, same profile, same slight graying at the temple - but it turned out to be Wendell Corey, of whom I'd never heard.

Now there, in a nutshell, was exactly Romney's problem and very likely the reason he lost the election.  He was a perfect fit for a sappy 1949 movie, not just by looks but in many respects also by his policy prescriptions - but in 2012, people weren't looking for a throwback to their grandparents' era.

Incidentally, Corey was a much better sport when he lost the girl than Romney was when he lost the election.

 

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Holiday Affair (1949)

Subduing Television Guns, Funerals, Violence

The tragic shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School have engendered a rash of sensitivity on the part of those who produce our mass entertainment.  

The release of the new movie based on Lee Child's successful series of books about larger-than-life but more-violent-than-average hero Jack Reacher has been postponed for fear of offending cinema audiences. And entertainment reporters are scratching for signs that television shows are being removed from the air.  That seems to be the case with "Best Funeral Ever," but perhaps not with "American Guns," which may be going off the air for other reasons.

In any event, there's a new sensitivity in the air, though there's evidence it's very temporary -- in the article above, for example, it appears lots of violent shows are still attracting eyeballs despite events at Sandy Hook.

That's not surprising, though.  I suppose these movie-goers, like most of  us, draw a mental line between entertainment and reality.  I've read some of the Lee Child books; I've seen some pretty violent films; but I've never been anywhere near confusing what goes on in these entertainment genres with what might happen in real life.  In the entertainment world, feats of violence and derring-do are exaggeratedly impossible; no one with an ounce of realism could think of them as performable by real people -- sort of like the driving feats in those automobile ads, where they tell you, basically, "don't try this in your own car, idiot!"

Maybe films and books should come with some sort of warning label like that.  It seems the difference between those who go on a bloody rampage, and those who don't, is just being unable to discern the line between real and fantasy. 

The Unnews

Years ago, the pale soda-pop known as Seven-Up, not doing too well against the more popular cola drinks, decided to brand itself as "The Un-Cola."   I'm not sure how that turned out; I seldom if ever see ads for the product now.  Perhaps it's no longer made.  But since I never drank it, I'm not very motivated to go find out, either.

And so it is with television news.  As the evening newscasts reach for ever lighter fare, they increasingly become the Un-News.   Like the Un-Cola, by doing so they (a) demonstrate their current irrelevance and (b) threaten to broaden that irrelevance into extinction.  And when it disappears, I guess I won't be very motivated to find out what happened to it.

While local stations may be able to survive by providing a steady flow of far-from-essential material, people are likely always to find some value in developments of local interest, ranging from a quick sports fix, the ever-popular weather, matters like traffic snarls, regional projects, and the human-interest stories.

But the "national" news has truly become a misnomer.  There's nothing national about it.  Yesterday's offering on NBC began with the story of a young Kansas City football pro who whacked his fiancee and then himself.  Just what we'd expect to hear on the local broadcast in Kansas City but sorry, not "national."  Then there was another tale about a bus hitting an overhead ramp in Miami.  Seriously?  Again: local, not national.  There followed a third story, equally uninteresting to 80% of the nation, before we arrived at a moment or two devoted to a really "national" topic.

If, though, we're going to be enmeshed in local events whether we want to be or not, I have this question:

What kind of airport is it that would have an overhead ramp too low to accommodate tour buses?  Is this another manifestation of the "florida syndrome" that also seems to prevent them from counting their votes on time?

 

ZolaBooks [Not Nana]

Last night we watched one of those mystery/detective yarns that PBS imports from Merrie England.  Figuring as a "clew" was trace evidence of bookcloth on one of the victims' smacked heads.  Bookcloth?   Many of us, I'm sure, do recall the days of physical books with paper pages, and covers sort of wallpapered with a textile for durability.  That textile is bookcloth; in the U.S. we usually refer to it as "buckram" but other sorts of cloth may be used.  Fittingly, the whacker turned out to be a professor of advanced years, because the subliminal message of bookcloth is: How quaint!

It's another reminder of the ongoing process of shifting our reading habits from ecologically wasteful wood pulp to equally ecologically wasteful high-tech electronic gadgets.

Like many such processes, there are bound to be false starts and readjustments.   (Recall Betamax, and cassette tapes.)  I've been a convert to e-books and specifically to the Kindle for several years now, but these devices have drawbacks.  The original Kindles, for example (including Gen 3 and the keyboardless touchables) lack color, and can't provide satisfactory viewing of charts, graphs, or illustrations that may be in the original book.  More important, they're all proprietary:  What you buy from Amazon has to stay in an Amazon device, ditto with the Nook and other imitators.

So I think the concept offered by ZolaBooks, described today in the Sunday Post, sounds like a winner.  They are planning an on-line service that will enable books purchased there to be read on ANY device.  This and other features suggest that Zola might be a "germinal" idea. 

The downside may be that ZolaBooks envisions itself as yet another entry in the social media category.  "Follow" your friends or favorite reviewers, track what they're reading, link to Facebook, see what's "hot," make recommendations yourself ... all that kind of stuff.  I've never been much of a herd-reader.  A lot of current bestsellers just don't interest me.  And I tend to read books in a wide variety of subject matter and styles, so I have little interest in a site that tries to lead me to "other books I may like."  We'll see how that works out.

The service is being rolled out gradually as certain contractual problems are being solved but readers can check it out:   www.zolabooks.com . 

Meanwhile, as of this morning there seems to be a little malfunction in the website.  The site is "optimized" for Safari or Chrome browsers but using Internet Explorer, completing my basic account information proved impossible.  I suppose that will be ironed out.   

Billy Lynn's War

A new novel by Ben Fountain entitled "Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk" was recently reviewed as "the Catch-22 for Iraq."  It's not that.  It is, perhaps, inspired by Joseph Heller's earlier novel, but it's not as humorous; it's not set in the combat zone; and more important, I doubt that its point of view will come to define, for today's Iraq vets, what they experienced, in the way that Heller's novel did for the WWII generation. 

Still, it's an interesting book.  If like me you loath books dealing with Hollywood, starlets, and moguls (or in this case, football moguls and cheerleaders), you'll need to get beyond that.  But the place where Fountain really strikes home is in depicting the separation between the troops who fight the wars these days and the folks on the "home front" who go about their business largely oblivious to the sacrifices and trials of the grunts.  In a very real sense, the war in Iraq becomes surreal to the home crowd, for whom it's only something they see on TV, or in a packaged, faked-up hero/warrior image that's spoon-fed to the public. 

The handful of troops chosen as the focus for this honor in the novel realize that it's not a realistic depiction, yet can't do much about changing it.  The main character, Billy Lynn, "has noticed that [American] audiences don't seem to mind" the fakeness, which just

 "rolls right off them, maybe because the nonstop sales job of American life has instilled in them exceptionally high thresholds for sham, puff, spin, bullshit, and outright lies, in other words for advertising in all its forms." 

Shades of our political system, where candidates dare not speak truth, for people tend to kill the messenger who brings truth.  In the context of war, though, the "sales job" points up the differences between Heller's time and Fountains, and get us to thinking about whether it was such a wise thing to abandon conscription.