Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Category: Uncategorized (Page 28 of 45)

Use it or Lose it.

Here is the scene: breakfast table, Mountain Dew, a napkin serving as a plate, and the cupcake package. Gotta read something – but I’ve been examining the Dew ingredients list for a quarter of a century. Or more.

On the cupcake package it says, “Best if used by December 20, 2010.”

Used?

I said to myself, mouth full of cake, “what will I use it for?” What do they mean, “use” the cake? Isn’t it made to be eaten? Are they interchangable terms? “What are you doing for the holidays? Wanna come over and use some dinner?”

It does sound a little awkward to print on the label, “Best eaten by…,” but they could have gone with another tack, like “fresh through December…”

In trying to think up uses for the tasty cakes, I came up with nothing I can list here…but I’m thinking about lunch already.

Might use a burger.

The New News.

I appointed myself as Chief LCM (local media critic…) because I got tired of waiting to be nominated for the position. Perhaps we don’t really need one, but I really need the chance to whine.

A change has come in broadcast news, television in particular. The local program as a primary source for news has been replaced by info-packages that “investigate” whether the ShamWow is really everything it is cracked up to be. Here now, the News:

On the sports desk, local football isn’t even included, relegated to OKSportsBlitz.com – We’ll be back with more sports in a moment.

My objections, it appears, are the result of old-fashioned expectations. Media consultant Terry L. Heaton writes:

Broadcast journalism’s salvation lies beyond the box of the 6 o’clock news, and we need to get past our deeply-rooted beliefs and traditions in order to find it.

In truth, my criticisms are based on traditional expectations. My concept of an evolving local broadcast has been rooted in an old model: I thought the purpose was to bring news of a regional nature, to a local audience.

Overlooked, on my part: the audience for that concept is aging, dying, or disappearing.

When I hear the sports anchor’s referral to the internet for more details, I assume that involves leaving the room to that place where the plastic machine lies dormant, waiting to be “booted up.” Dinosaur thinking.

Smart phones are in-hand, connected already. Laptops are at the elbow, wirelessly humming with the ability for instant access. Heaton says the evening news block is a aging concept and only change will keep the broadcasters in the mix.

Who knows?

The future of local news may be an interactive Skype-type discussion, where laptop chatters can form a virtual circle and decide what should be reported, for how long, and toward what conclusion.

My personal belief is that, at some point, someone will have to physically exit the chatroom to observe the world and return with real information – even if it is only the sad news that rain has cancelled the game, indefinitely.

Turning up the Heat.

Early this morning, my bare feet slapping on the cold wood floors, I hurried down the hallway to the thermostat. The new one. The one the electrician installed with the wires backward.

It wasn’t so difficult figuring out that when the Heat setting produced cold air, it must be hot air resulting from the Cold setting.

Except, thermostats are the almost-sentient little machines designed to keep watch for us, anticipating our comfort needs, hanging there on the wall like little gargoyles grinning against the cold breeze. (The cold breeze was me passing by as I rushed back to bed to dive under the covers.)

Simple, isn’t it? If you want heat, simply set the thermostat to the left. Ooops, it’s not that simple. The little gargoyle, you see, believes that lowering the temperature is a request for a colder house. It doesn’t know a thing about crossed wires. Once the house is suffiently cold, as it was this morning, there was no need for any action.

Trickery comes into play. Pushing the lever further still, I convinced the little watchman that I wanted it colder than it was, and so – with wires reversed – the heater kicked on. And stayed on. And on. You see, once the thermostat understood I wanted it colder, it would keep trying and trying and trying to make the thermometer move that direction, producing heat to in a futile attempt to achieve the goal. Backwards.

In fact, if I had not tricked the thermostat this morning when I did, the house might have cooled below fifty degrees, the lowest setting on the dial. At that point, I couldn’t even trick it. I’d have to warm the house up enough to make the thermostat believe I wanted it cooler.

Confusing? It is as long as you think about it too long. Once the thing is understood, starting and stopping it is a cinch – although anything but automatic.

It makes me think about the government, and the dilemma certainly facing a number of well-intentioned lawmakers who understand the system but lack the tools or personnel to affect a change.

Until that point, trickery, reversing actions, and constant vigilence are among the few solutions to a crossed-wire system.

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