Reducing to the Old and Simple
Technology became a big part of my life in the mid-1980s when the personal computer arrived. From this, I derived a career that spanned not just many years but even spilled from one century into the next. The proliferation of technology continues to occupy my day. Yesterday, I installed yet another security camera, this time one that has the ability to track and follow a moving object, whether it be an intruder, a feral cat, or the UPS truck—and to notify me of what that object is, as determined by AI. It was a breeze to set up.
But even though I’ve got years of experience with gadgets, I’m sometimes frustrated by them. For reasons I don’t need to get into here, I had to use our old DVD player the other day. I quickly discovered I’d forgotten how to operate the remote. I’m so used to streaming video that getting the player to do certain things was a mystery. How do I turn on subtitles? Oh, right—there’s a button for that. How do I find out how much time remains of the video? There might be a button for that, too, but I can’t find it. And chapters! That’s not something you get on Netflix. Are chapters useful if by mistake I hit the “stop” button and want to go back to where I was? Streaming is so much easier than playing DVDs.
The DVD player is, of course, old tech. But new technology doesn’t necessarily make our life easier. Every time I get a system update on my phone, there is some useful function that seems to get moved deeper into the menus—or just gets deep-sixed altogether. Unfortunately, sometimes we just have to accept these annoying changes. Although an old DVD player can still be useful, try making a dental appointment with a rotary phone; when the automated attendant tells you to “Press 1 for appointments,” you’ll be out of luck, and pressing “O” to get a live person won’t work, either. You need to have a modern touch-tone phone for that or, better yet, a smartphone.
New technology also comes to the tools for making art, of course. But I don’t have to use them. Sure, I can fire up my digital Wacom tablet and stylus—but I always get a less frustrating, and often more satisfying experience, with my old hog bristle brushes and a few tubes of oil paint.
There’s a part of me that’s thrilled by new tech. I grew up watching Star Trek and excited for the day I’d have my own holodeck but no tech has ever lived up to the anticipation. I play with procreate from time to time but it just doesn’t hit the mark. There’s nothing like the smell or texture of paint and the way the brush feels in your hand.