We all read it back in High School. Farenheit 451, the blissful future all schoolkids looked forward to. The day when books no longer existed. No more reading forced upon us by work-crazed teachers who simply did not understand how much time we spent on our hair, or mastering that new trick shot on the basketball court. Back then, we equated reading with work. More specifically, work we did not want to do.
Since our high school days, reading has taken a whole different place in our lives. Now, we read to pass the time, to get a little time to ourselves, and escape. "Don't talk to Mom, she is in the middle of a book," Dad might say to a pleading child one Saturday afternoon, "What can I help you with?"
In adulthood, reading has also become a way to say something. It has become common practice for coaches like Duke's Mike Krzyzewski and Lakers Coach Phil Jackson to give out books before each season. These mentors-of-men often hand out the tomes as a way to teach others a valuable lesson. Even if the book was forgotten on the shelf for years, the day it was read, the lesson would still be just as true. The coaches found that they could impart life lessons through books, which have the unique ability to still stay just as fresh years later.
The thing is, that books do just that. they don't expire, and they don't wilt with age. They are just as good to read after ten or twenty years as they were when they were printed. It is great for books, but not so great for booksellers. There was a time in this country when there was a busy newsstand / bookstore in every town. As the car spread us out, bookstores consolidated into larger stores, spaced farther apart. Gone then was the neighborhood bookstore. As shopping malls popped up across the country, many of the independent bookstores were driven out of business by chains in climate-controlled shopping centers. Fifteen years ago, the really big chains came through. Borders and Barnes and Noble sprouted up across the country and dealt a further blow to small booksellers with sledge hammer grace.
Still, somehow, small booksellers persevered. Singe stores, or small regional chains still eked out a niche in the shrinking market by adding coffee shops and really getting to know their local customer's interests. Some only dealt in used books, leaving the bestsellers for the big chains with their heavily discounted prices. Others became more like local historians, bringing together local authors, and regional histories with avid readers. It was a good thing, until the internet and Amazon came along.
In the past five or ten years, many local, independent booksellers finally threw in the towel when the internet giant Amazon.com came around. Amazon, dealing with publishers to get the best prices on books anywhere, could undercut all others, and what's more, they had literally everything ever published. Even with shipping, they had your book to you in two days, and there was no more going to three shops on a Saturday to find the book you could not live without. Lives were made easier and all was well, but for the independent bookstores.
Now there is an even more foreboding future for the little guys in the book business. It really began in earnest last year around the holidays. With proprietary names like Kindle and Nook, the e-book has come in to the market swinging. Even now, the ads are all over the radio, working hard to make e-book readers the "Tickle-Me Elmo" for adult readers everywhere.
They have their merits. E-books sell the works for less than the paper copies can go for. You don't have to drive anywhere to get them. If you want to practice your French or Spanish, you can literally flip a switch and there you go. Plus, you have free books made available through Project Gutenberg, and they are search-able. That is, if you just needed to know, you could download the complete works of William Shakespeare and then search out for keywords to find that the three witches were in Macbeth; Act IV, Scene 1.
But where will it leave the stalwart independent booksellers who have not succumbed to the onslaught of competition in the newly global book game? Some are calling it the digital dilemma. Where will the paper guys be left in an age where internet competition can undercut them by as much as 50% instantly, from the couch. They have been valued members of the community for decades. They have built up a loyal customer base, but lets be honest, the face behind the counter is only friendly in this day and age. There might not be much need for them in the future.
The transition will not be as enthusiastic as in Bradbury's novel. Kids may not be left with such trivia as the precise burning point of paper when the last paper book is removed from store shelves. But the end result might be just the same. It could be the end of the line for books. Whittled down from a neighborhood hot-spot, to a file; whizzing through cyberspace in a nanosecond. In Bradbury's story, learning was the enemy. Independent thought went against the rules, and reading was the harbinger of critical thought. In this 21st Century reality, some sixty years after the original hit the marketplace, critical thought abounds. Reading is no longer the enemy, but the book still is.
Back in High School, some friends of mine and I went out to an unpopulated barrier island on spring break. A bad gale blew in and stranded us. We had to burn a school copy of Lord of the Flies to keep warm that night. I thought it was strangely poetic. Perhaps when I am ready to buy my next e-book it should be Fahrenheit 451.
Showing posts with label Basketball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Basketball. Show all posts
Modern Life or the Old Ways
Technology is wonderful, except when it isn't. Modern mechanisms have been making our lives a little bit better since the invention of the spoon. Little pieces of insight and creative thinking cradle us in convenience.We surround ourselves with them and show them off to our friends. "Look at my phone!" or "The game is on the Plasma."
In a book I just read, the villain tried to detonate atomic bombs all around the globe, not to bring about nuclear holocaust, but to send out an electromagnetic pulse that would render useless anything with a transistor or circuit board. "Dear God," the President commented, "That would be far more savage than nuclear war." Maybe it would be. But that is only because we as humans living in the 21st century continue to fight for technology every day.
We fight for technology without knowing it. We say that going "paperless" is being environmentally conscious. We also notice that it will save us money on paper and printing costs. It is good, and good for us too. But what has come of the hand scrawled Thank You note Emily Post still recommends we write? Now, we are so tempted by e-mail and Facebook posts, that people actually need to be prodded a bit to take up a pen and paper the old way. Ridiculous.
There is even a growing market in Vermont for landowners to have their forests logged by ancient means. They call it responsible forestry, touting how it can repair damaged land. No, the lumberjack isn't going back to the hand saw or axe, but they are using teams of draft animals rather than giant tractors to haul the wood out. It is really quite inspiring to watch, take my word for it. Engine noise and exhaust fumes are replaced by heavy breathing and footsteps. The only down side is the view driving the team. Who really wants to stare at the rump of a horse all day?
That reminds me of a great Vermont story I heard from my in-laws a few years back. A fellow was out moose hunting on the last day of the season. He was miles from a road and shot a big bull moose. The animal weighed more than a thousand pounds. Being the last day of the season, he had to weigh it in by sundown or face a fine. He drove a 2wd Toyota pick up that stood no chance of traversing the muddy forests, and appealed to a farmer nearby for use of his tractor. The farmer said no, but offered instead his team of oxen. Those who watched it that day, and those who retold the story afterward still speak in awe of the sight of that team hauling the muddy moose out of the woods that day. They go on to laugh at the memory of ten big farm boys picking up and setting that muddy moose in the bed of the tiny Toyota pickup as well; feet sticking out one way, the antlers over the other side.
There was no need for technology that day. The old method was even better suited to the task. Those oxen left no ruts in the soft forest ground. They burned no fossil fuels (though they did release methane gas, I'm sure). They did the job the old way, and made a real impression on a lot of people because of it. Just like that hand-written Thank You note does.
So why did I mention it? Well, we are in the midst of March Madness. For the uninitiated, that means picking teams and filling out those college basketball brackets. Personally, college basketball is the one sport I do follow. I am too busy Jeeping all summer to follow baseball. Football is only good in the playoffs. College basketball gets me in from the garage at the muddy end of March. It is fun to make your picks and see how far off you really are from what really happens. Up until this year, I filled out my picks on paper. I have managed office pools, and spent hours in front of the television with a highlighter figuring out who was ahead.
This year, I tried to us technology to make my life easier. I usually embrace new technology. I have the patience to tinker my way through most of it. Not this time. Managing the brackets has always been a practice that focuses on the playing ability of the teams. This time it turned itself into a computer nightmare. It all started so easily. Click on a link here, follow instructions there. It turned into a four hour process taking up two computers and three separate e-mail accounts to see if it worked. And it didn't. Ugh!
Technology truly can be a wonderful thing. Unless you are the President staring down a threat to transistors everywhere, technology really can be a blessing. But when things don't work right, boy can it go wrong. Nobody ever had a problem with a prototype spoon that affected people the same way computers can. Nobody ever spent four hours online trying to get a piece of paper to work. With the advent of the Kindle, and IPad threatening to overtake books and newspapers, we need to remember that. The old ways are sometimes better. Whether through Thank You notes, or teams of draft animals, the old ways still can bring people together at a personal level. It is better than struggling to overcome the emotional distance that an e-mail creates.
Perhaps the emotional distance can be a good thing as well. As it is, nobody at CBS Sports knows what I was really thinking when I tried to fill out my brackets online.
In a book I just read, the villain tried to detonate atomic bombs all around the globe, not to bring about nuclear holocaust, but to send out an electromagnetic pulse that would render useless anything with a transistor or circuit board. "Dear God," the President commented, "That would be far more savage than nuclear war." Maybe it would be. But that is only because we as humans living in the 21st century continue to fight for technology every day.
We fight for technology without knowing it. We say that going "paperless" is being environmentally conscious. We also notice that it will save us money on paper and printing costs. It is good, and good for us too. But what has come of the hand scrawled Thank You note Emily Post still recommends we write? Now, we are so tempted by e-mail and Facebook posts, that people actually need to be prodded a bit to take up a pen and paper the old way. Ridiculous.
There is even a growing market in Vermont for landowners to have their forests logged by ancient means. They call it responsible forestry, touting how it can repair damaged land. No, the lumberjack isn't going back to the hand saw or axe, but they are using teams of draft animals rather than giant tractors to haul the wood out. It is really quite inspiring to watch, take my word for it. Engine noise and exhaust fumes are replaced by heavy breathing and footsteps. The only down side is the view driving the team. Who really wants to stare at the rump of a horse all day?
That reminds me of a great Vermont story I heard from my in-laws a few years back. A fellow was out moose hunting on the last day of the season. He was miles from a road and shot a big bull moose. The animal weighed more than a thousand pounds. Being the last day of the season, he had to weigh it in by sundown or face a fine. He drove a 2wd Toyota pick up that stood no chance of traversing the muddy forests, and appealed to a farmer nearby for use of his tractor. The farmer said no, but offered instead his team of oxen. Those who watched it that day, and those who retold the story afterward still speak in awe of the sight of that team hauling the muddy moose out of the woods that day. They go on to laugh at the memory of ten big farm boys picking up and setting that muddy moose in the bed of the tiny Toyota pickup as well; feet sticking out one way, the antlers over the other side.
There was no need for technology that day. The old method was even better suited to the task. Those oxen left no ruts in the soft forest ground. They burned no fossil fuels (though they did release methane gas, I'm sure). They did the job the old way, and made a real impression on a lot of people because of it. Just like that hand-written Thank You note does.
So why did I mention it? Well, we are in the midst of March Madness. For the uninitiated, that means picking teams and filling out those college basketball brackets. Personally, college basketball is the one sport I do follow. I am too busy Jeeping all summer to follow baseball. Football is only good in the playoffs. College basketball gets me in from the garage at the muddy end of March. It is fun to make your picks and see how far off you really are from what really happens. Up until this year, I filled out my picks on paper. I have managed office pools, and spent hours in front of the television with a highlighter figuring out who was ahead.
This year, I tried to us technology to make my life easier. I usually embrace new technology. I have the patience to tinker my way through most of it. Not this time. Managing the brackets has always been a practice that focuses on the playing ability of the teams. This time it turned itself into a computer nightmare. It all started so easily. Click on a link here, follow instructions there. It turned into a four hour process taking up two computers and three separate e-mail accounts to see if it worked. And it didn't. Ugh!
Technology truly can be a wonderful thing. Unless you are the President staring down a threat to transistors everywhere, technology really can be a blessing. But when things don't work right, boy can it go wrong. Nobody ever had a problem with a prototype spoon that affected people the same way computers can. Nobody ever spent four hours online trying to get a piece of paper to work. With the advent of the Kindle, and IPad threatening to overtake books and newspapers, we need to remember that. The old ways are sometimes better. Whether through Thank You notes, or teams of draft animals, the old ways still can bring people together at a personal level. It is better than struggling to overcome the emotional distance that an e-mail creates.
Perhaps the emotional distance can be a good thing as well. As it is, nobody at CBS Sports knows what I was really thinking when I tried to fill out my brackets online.
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