Wow, I Got Color TV

I could not let this otherwise innocuous day pass without observing a significant personal anniversary. Fifty years ago--and I shudder to admit that I have any clear memories of 50 years and past, but sic transit all of us--a large box was delivered to my apartment in Rego Park, New York. It contained an RCA Color TV, which doesn't seem very significant now, but at that juncture was a Great Innovation. We were probably the first family on the block (at least of all those we knew) to have purchased a color set, and it set off a string of amusing memories that I still share with my mother and brother.

How detailed those memories are! I recall the serviceman explaining the positives and negatives of the color picture--how greens and blues were great, but red was often not fully saturated, or tended to the green side (that's when we had "tint" buttons and other myriad adjustment knobs). He also warned us that while live and film pcitures would be crisp, videotape color was still a little primitive. It didn't matter to us--the few programs that were actually telecast in color were so phantasmagoric a change from the usual black-and-white that even greenish skin tones were captivating.

Very quickly my parents' bedrrom, where the TV sat, became a neighborhood hub. All our neighbors would stroll in, and a band of friends would make scheduled visits to see the few programs actually colorcast. My brother and I would call these visitors "The Moochers,", and every evening the table talk at dinner included speculation as to which Moochers would appear uninvited at our door. In those days TV Guide had a list of those programs, many of which I've committed to memory. The very first broadcast we saw was "Racing at Hialeah." Then there was Kraft Music Hall, whose first offer we saw multi-hued was a rendition of "The Tempest," starring Maurice Evans and Roddy McDowell as Puck (quite a memory, huh?)B ut what really entranced us were these wonderful commercials where colorful recipes were prepared, almost all of them involving Velveeta, which shone in tasty golden hues. Another favorite of our crowd was Kathryn and Arthur Murray's Dance Studio, which featured ballroom dancing in elegant gowns. It entertains me not just to recall how vivid those flowing raiments were, but how ahead of its time the Arthur Murray Show was, predating "Dancing with the Stars" by 45 years.

Eventually the novelty faded and other neighbors decided to skip over the popular reluctance to go with the new technology ("I'll wait until it's perfected") and the Moochers returned to their hives. But it made such an impact on me that I never forgot the date of the delivery, January 29, 1959; it seemed so epochal.

Then, as the decades passed, as swiftly as pages falling from a wall calendar in a 1940s melodrama, media innovations came and sparked and died or transformed. There was the remote control, a gimmick introduced by Zenith, that afforded us the freedom to sit on our duffs to change the channels. Then came cable TV (which most entitled Americans resisted), the Sony walkman, the Sony watchman, 8-tracks players, audio cassettes, VCRs, DVDs, TIVO, DVRs, computers, the Internet, cell phones, Ipods, Blue Tooth and Blue Ray. Whew. Not for any of these inventions was I the pioneer, as when I was a child.

So, a half century (help!) later, we are watching the proliferation of the newest TV technology, Hi Def TV, now beginning to saturate all the homes in the world, now that digital TV is taking over, analog signals are about to vanish, and the prices of the new devices are trending down, along with the economy. And I find that just as I got inured to color TV and could not appreciate black-and-white any more, I find viewing nm picture that is not 1080 lines is like looking through blurry lenses. And the innovations keep coming--a 3D screen was previewed in a recent technology show, and, if viewers can tolerate the thought of donning those silly polarized glasses, should become another common appliance some time in the next decade.

And it better be very special, because TV itself, like so many other 20th century media phenomena, is a threatened species.

Going, Going, Gone

Now that the giddy euphoria accompanying President Obama's Inauguration (well, among everybody but the Fox News team and the Alaska State House) has dissipated, we now return you to our regular programming. Before I had my own brief interval of optimism I was readying my next post to delineate signs of increasing desperation in our economy. Well, they are all over the place, and as much a I try to remain unimpaired by the awful recession in my pension-augmented retirement state, it's hard to avoid the evidence--or in the following cases, disappearing evidence.

When I used to frequent the Glendale Galleria, two of my favorite stops were the Sharper Image store for its cool gadgetry, and Mervyn's for its inviting sales. Well, no more. Thanks to a bad review of its proprietary ion machine by Consumer Reports, Sharper Image went into a tailspin from which it never recovered. Bye-bye. Its name will only remain as a label accompanyhing some remaining inventory. As for Mervyn's, it's no longer having a sale, and its stores are now skeletal retail remains.

Circuit City is having a sale--but in a month or two will be closing its doors completely. Linen & Things is also a goner. So is Hamburger Hamlet. So is Washington Mutual Bank. So, of course, are half the brokerage firms on Wall Street, with Citigroup hanging by a thread. There is a huge condo building on a busy corner near the Kodak Theater that has stopped contruction due to diminished funding and looms as one of Hollywood's greatest eyesores. That phenomenon is happening all over, wherever the contruction frenzy built on the real estate bubble. Even in Las Vegas, the huge building complex called City Center has sections suspended, even after funds were pumped in from Dubai. Also vanishing form that region are myriad casino workers, especially in the security departments, victims of the gambling slump.

Some of the problems are not entirely due to the flagging economy; there are also the perils of techhological innovation, which leave old communications standbys in the primordial muck of evolutionary non-adaptiveness. Not only are we saying goodbye, sometime in 2009, to the analog bands on our TV airwaves, but also to any devices that still need that signal, without the requisite digital converter box. And those seem to be vanishing too. Even more problematic, though, is the ongoing calamity befalling our print media. So many old faithful publications are now on life support, with the only outlet being the Internet. Fairly soon we will see the final departure of the print New York Times, Newsweek, and TV Guide, journals I've known since childhood. Their on-line counterparts will provide as much information, to be sure, but will not be as comfortable to read in a lesiure setting. I don't know how I will enjoy my morning coffee with a laptop nearby (as I gingerly try to sip and not spill). Signs of TV Guides' imminent demise are very clear, as I'm beginning to receive a lot of double issues--saving print, one is to assume--as well as hysterical requests for long-term subscriptions. And the L.A. Times has done such a vanishing act that its daily edition is as thin as a supermarket discount supplement.

Well, time and tide wait for no man, or something. Everything dies, everything fades, even before December 12, 2012. But that philosophical sigh does not console one in the face of scary natural disappearances such as that of half the honeybees in the country. Or the likelihood that bananas will be vanishing from the stores in a few years. And I read the news today, oh boy, that our citrus crop is being threatened by some awful parasite.

On the other hand, with bananas, grapefuit and honey on the endangered list, there probably will be no breakfast soon with which to peruse the morning paper.

I could go on, but do you really want me to?

The Man in the Glass Booth

Usually before a major cultural event I try to avoid the hype by ignoring most of the TV programming and journalistic input; this is how I get through Super Bowl week and the buildup to the Oscars (made even more difficult by the local traffic restrictions here near the Kodak, rendering the area impassable). For this reason I've been mostly avoiding the frenzy regarding tomorrow's historic Inauguration of Obama (one more day! one more day!). But one can't totally disavow the pomp for an event that is so agreeable, so I hunkered down last night to watch the HBO coverage of the Pre-Inaugural Concert at the Lincoln Memorial.

The program alternated between serious and portentous orations that might have embarrassed the 16th President's ghost, and pleasant musical interludes from a bevy of notables. The highights for me were Garth Brooks' spirited renditon of "Shout", and the concluding hymnal "America the Beautiful," a stunningly wonderful song that does our nation proud. I also enjoyed Renee Fleming's renditon of Rodgers and Hammerstein's "You'll Never Walk Alone," an anthem that used to be ubiquitous in every High School graduation ceremony of my generation, but probably sounded totally new to most of the millions who attended.

The occasional camera shots of Obama and Biden, with their families, were ingratiating, especially the candids that caught Malia obsessing with her camera, and one of Biden's grandkids dozing off. It was nice to see Obama singing along spiritedly, without any apparent self-consciousness or apparent sense of the enormity of his future importance. What wasn't apparent from the camera angle, which I was surprised to read about this morning, was that the entire Presidential entourage was enclosed in a bulletproff booth. This necessary precaution, of course, underscores everyone's security fears, and it does remind us of what horrors could also lie in the future, as experienced by the Ghost of Honor Abraham Lincoln, and Obama's closest historical parallel, John Kennedy.

This has been a celebratory weekend, and not only because of the Obama ascendancy. Last week there occurred an event so startling in its hopefulness that it could almost serve as a metaphor for what we can expect from a new capable administration. When Captain Sully Sullenberger (sic?) managed to guide his stricken plane over the crowded streets of the Bronx and onto a miraculously safe landing on the Hudson River he reminded us what true professionalism was about.

It wasn't only his incredible poise and skill that saved so many lives; it was a confluence of many other skilled and capable people who banded together to remedy a potentially horrible situation. The co-pilot, the flight attendants, the ferry pilots, the commuters, and even the calm and cooperative plane passengers all performed their roles superbly. It said something very inspirational about the human spirit. Though as a cynic is has been easy for me to decy all our human weaknesses an d foibles, it must also be said that in times of crisis we are also able to act with ennobling grace. Though I'm sure it is a universal human trait, it is particularly true of New Yorkers, whom I have seen band together wondrously when there is a shared disaster.

I recall a similar event in 2005, when I arrived in New York after a sea cruise, just in time to experience the massive blackout that crippled the city, and of course, its airports. I was stuck in a hot crowded terminal without any electricity whatever, watiing forever for some airlines to activate. But I knew I'd be there for a long while and would have to cope. As time moved on the situation got better, not worse, as a sense of cooperation suffused all those gathered. It was an infectious generosity. At one point I went over to the only source of food, a small snack kiosk, and once there decided, what the hell, to buy food for everyone who was sitting with me. This is not remarkable, except that I am a true cheapskate, so somehow I felt moved into the unknown territory of altruism.

But what was most impressive about the miracle of Flight 1549, from LaGuradia to the Hudson River, is that it demonstrated what can happen when those in control are actually competent. Even the biggest disaster can be avoided by the smooth and thoughtul rendering of one's duties. This was not what happened in the previous appalling administration of George W. Bush, to whom competence was a very low priority as compared to ideological toadyism. But to the New Guy, if his own campaign and pre-Presidential behavior is any indication, skill and professionalism will be respected once again.

Hallelujah, and Hail to the Chief.

Four More Years

And that's apparently it.

This is my sad conclusion after two weeks of demoralizing TV viewing on the History Channel. That was my default option after several weeks of regular TV programming falling into the abyss of holiday hiatuses. I surfed the extensive program listings and found the most intriguing choices on the History Channel's "Seven Deadly Sins" week and the following, appropriate "Armageddon Week."

Now, not only do I know how many ways the world can end--some say by fire, some by ice--but I'm also partially convinced as to when. In a much earlier blog I discussed the premonition of the Mayans and others that a major catastrophic event will occur on December 21, 2012 that will alter the trajectory of mankind's existence. This theory was further elaborated on one the History Channel's programs, which suggested that there may be cosmic consequences regarding the earth and the sun's positions on that day. Supposedly, according the the ancients, the sun can be located directly in front of the middle of the Milky Way galaxy as observed form Earth. This, of course, begs the question of how the sun can be viewed at the same time as the Milky Way, which only appears at night--so how did the ancients figure this out? But one supposes that telescopes can do the trick. As to the import of this juxtaposition, it could portend a reversal of the earth's magnetic poles, which would of course cause havoc, but why the sun's position should affect that is about as clear as any astrologer's rationalization.

Okay, putting my skepticism aside, there are circumstances that could result in stupendous calamity to earth, although one can argue that the removal of the human species would be a net plus for the planet. Another program airing on the History Channel was a rerun of an ABC special from several years back listing the seven most likely means to The End, from the least probable--a cosmic burst from a neighboring star, that would fry the planet like a cheese ball dropped in a fondue pot--to the most likely, a planetary global warming (which is actually happening). The other culprits include a collision with a rogue black hole, a Terminator-like rise of artificial intelligence that eliminates its Creators, a meteor strike like the sort that knocked out the dinosaurs, a super Volcano, nuclear war, and global epidemics, man-made or natural.

Putting all my dreadful cogitations together I've determined that the scariest of these possibilities--meaning the most likely to actually affect us in 2012, if it is to happen--is the Super volcano. This is an appalling eruption so large--200 times the size of Mt. St. Helens--that is spreads its fire and ash across the globe, blotting out the sun, destroying vegetation, and hence wiping out most species. The last such event formed the enormous caldera that is now Yellowstone National Park, and occurred 630,000 years ago. Seems pretty remote, but historically that humongous lava lamp has exploded on average every 600,00 years, meaning we are overdue. Add to this the fact that the once dependable "Old Faithful" geyser has lost its predictability, and more worrisome, there has been a cluster of earthquakes in Yellowstone that hasn't abated in the last year. This suggests that something is up.

If Yellowstone goes, so goes the nation--and the world. This means you and me and Paris Hilton and Ann Coulter and Barack Obama and the Dalai Lama and Bill Gates and need I go on? Okay, perhaps the History Channel is just blathering for the sake of ratings, or maybe it should be now called the Pseudohistory Channel, and we can put all these worries aside. Besides, it's still almost four years off. But then again, it was less than four years ago that I began this blog.

So eat drink and be merry, because tomorrow, well guess.