Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I once read an interview with one of the pop members behind this hit. In the interview, he said (paraphrasing) the song was a hit because it had an odd novelty beat.
I’d always wondered why and how the song managed to become so popular and ubiquitous. That odd beat might explain it.
Here’s Devo with “Whip It” from 1980.
I’d just begun new employment. I wasn’t the age I now am, but I was middle-aged and experienced in office environments.
The office building was one of those old San Mateo buildings used by start-ups. It was dark and cramped inside. I don’t know what the company was doing or what my position was. Those things were being explained but a haze covers that part of the dream. Then my boss, a director, said, “Here comes the CEO.” All present, except for me, started gravitating around the CEO and his words.
Beginning to sort the situation, I discovered a huge collection of parts. Looking at them, I realized it was a stockroom of one part. I don’t know what the part was. Taking one apart, I found batteries inside. Then I found and read paperwork, and spoke to others. The gist of what I understood about the company was that it was struggling and going through a re-organization. Resources were scarce. Investigating, I learned that the parts were old stock. They’d set it aside to get rid of it. I decided I’d remove the batteries, test them to see if they worked, or recycle them. Then I go find something to do with the parts.
The CEO came along while I was in the middle of doing this. “What are you doing?” he asked. I explained my plan.
My initiative impressed him. “This is the kind of thing we need to be doing until we get on our feet,” he told the others in a little speech.
I shrugged all of that off and kept going about my business. In another room, I discovered food being thrown away. I couldn’t understand that at all. Like the parts and batteries, I decided that wasn’t appropriate, so I began going through the food, checking the dates and packaging, and organizing it by its food group. Others entered while I was doing that. Many asked, “What are you doing?”
I explained myself each time. People most often replied, “That’s too much work.”
I didn’t argue with them or explain myself. I was settling in and had the time. It was a unique time and exercise; once it was done, it wouldn’t be needed to be done again.
I knew that, so I kept at it. As I worked, the food, battery and parts disappeared, as though I was seeing it through a time-lapsed recording. The office became brighter.
In the end, I paused. I was holding an armful of food containers. Looking around, I thought, I’m scavenging energy for re-use.
Understanding that, I went on, and the dream ended.
I failed yesterday.
I’m one of those optimists who believe they can do anything, if they think, work, and try hard enough. I believe this despite my multiple failures at doing everything that I’ve tried, or coming up short. I’m just a freaking optimist.
Yesterday’s failure involved my wife’s Macbook, specifically her Retina A1398 15″ Retina edition. Her touchpad started malfunctioning. Her cursor would freeze and become unresponsive, or act like a crazy trapped bee. It’s been going on for a month.
I’ve fixed computers before. In my mind, fixing a computer is like replacing the points and plugs in a car. (Remember when cars had points and plugs?) Hell, I said, it might just be a new touchpad is required. Let me buy a new one and try to replace it. It’s only a few dollars.
Sure. Why not?
I ordered and received the part, opened up the Mac, disconnected the power, and attacked the battery.
I should say, the damn battery.
I’d read stories, but scoffed at those others who tried and failed. I AM MICHAEL, right?
Well, I couldn’t remove that battery, either. Nobody was exaggerating when they noted as Apple glued that sucker in there. It’s a fascinating solution, essentially six packets of different sizes glued into place along the leading edge and behind the touchpad. However, it’s also disturbing because it’s not easy to replace that battery, which means those Macs probably get trashed because their batteries failed and can’t be easily replaced. That means more toxic trash will be put into our environment, even though the computer still works. More depressing is that other manufacturers will probably follow this course because they can design smaller and lighter machines.
So, I failed. I don’t mind. As with every failure, I learned quite a bit. I just can’t worry about failing, or I wouldn’t try anything, right?
The kicker is, after I put the computer back together, her cursor worked fine, and has since that time. We rationalize that it must have been undue pressure on the touchpad, and that I’d relieved and shifted that pressure when I disassembled the computer.
I’m sure this story isn’t over yet.
As I showered today, enjoying fresh hot water, I thought about all the moments leading to that one. I looked back toward Ashland becoming a town and the settlers coming together with a decision to establish a water system. They created dams and cisterns, and channeled water to pipes for homes to tap off them.
Imagine all of that, the thinking and conversations that were held about the idea, and the decisions that had to be made. Someone paid for it, someone oversaw the work, and others did the work.
Then expand, look at our modern areas with their drainage, sewage, and water supplies. The trails, paths, sidewalks, streets, and roads that were built, expanding into higheways, and then augmented with interstate expressways. Look at the driveways, parking spots, parking garages, and gas stations. Look at the new charging stations for electric cars. Look beyond to the communication lines, from telegraphs and telephones to antennas, and cable television and Internet connections to satellite feeds and cell towers.
It is amazing stuff that I take for granted, this infrastructure that I use with little thought, and it’s such a small, small fragment of the entire development that we call civilization. Shame that we have the potential to destroy all of this thought and work by careless thought and activity.
Especially when you consider the more amazing planet upon which all of this is built.
“How do you set the alarm on a Fitbit?” he said.
She said, “Tell it that you’re going to replace it with an Apple watch.”
“What?”
“That’ll alarm it.”
When you connect to the Internet, do you sometimes make the noises that your old modem made, just for old times’ sake?
Why yes, I do.
Don’t you hate it when you click on a button or link on a webpage, and nothing happens, so you click, and click, and click, and then dozens of pages suddenly explode open?
You don’t? Well, la-di-da. Good for you.
I followed my robot vacuum around today. Using it for spot-cleaning, I’d move it, turn it on, and then stand over it like a football coach on OTAs. “Move left,” I’d tell it. “Get that fur. Come on, pick it up, pick it up. That’s it. Good job.”
Doing this presented me with a feeling that I was cleaning, but I also felt empowered. I controlled the bot.
Maybe, too, I was seeing the future. Robots and automation are taking over more jobs each day, with plans for greater shifts on the near-horizon. But bots and automation might require intervention and guidance, as my Roomba does. We may have a new job category opening, bot-tender.
It could be the hot new thing, but I don’t think it’ll pay much.
Have you noticed that the world is sizzling more?
No, this isn’t a climate change post about the world’s increasing average temperatures, melting and disappearing glaciers, rising sea levels, and more frequent and violent storms. We can’t do anything about that, so let’s not talk about it.
I’m talking about marketing sizzle. We can’t do anything about it, either, but many people are already talking about climate change. Not many are talking about the marketing sizzle.
The sizzle comes from that expression, “You don’t sell the steak, you sell the sizzle.” Most companies are selling sizzle. We called it vaporware in the software business. It’s the stuff they tell you is so frigging miraculous that you won’t believe you ever did without it, the stuff that rarely lives up to the promise.
Television shows are big on selling the sizzle. “It’s the most mind-blowing episode ever! You won’t want to miss it!” They’re not usually the most mind-blowing episodes ever to me. I can usually get up during the show, go make a sandwich, feed the cats, and answer the phone, come back and find that I’ve missed nothing of substance, only a little sizzle.
Television is a sizzle pioneer, but all the companies are catching on that they’ve got to sell the sizzle. “Look how fast our car is,” many commercials claim, showing people grinning from ear-to-ear as they race through a city like Jason Bourne escaping his government buddies. “Look how much fun it is to drive! Look how free this people feel.” Weird how there’s no other cars in that city.
Beer and soda commercials aren’t slouches when it comes to selling sizzle. They now love to show healthy, athletic people surfing, singing, playing guitars, mountain climbing, or hiking. Then they stop to have a good old cold soda or brew. None of these people have problems. None are diabetic or overweight. The commercial’s slug rarely address the people, though. They speak of the beverage. “The world’s most refreshing beer.”
They state it without evidence. That’s the way it goes. Sizzle doesn’t need evidence. Just fire it up and let the hungry masses know about it, and they will come and buy, like, “The fastest broadband service ever seen.”
The government is proud about how these companies sell sizzle. They don’t want to do anything to reign in the sizzle. These companies are doing the world a public service. If it wasn’t for the sizzle, we’d be worried about things that don’t sizzle, like the wealth imbalance, corrupt politicians, investigating Russians, rebooting our routers against hackers, rising white supremacy movement, white and male privilege, the contamination of our food supplies, the growing plastic islands in our seas, increasing war and tensions in the middle East, our dwindling fresh water supplies, rising cancer rates, the Italian government and EU economy, or police officers attacking people over parking situations, escalating events in fear of phones.
It’s much better to think about the sizzle.
Here’s an unsolicited product testimonial.
I bought a new laptop bag at the end of April. It was about time. I go through laptop bags about every five years. The one I was using had a shoulder strap. I use a large HP laptop. Because it doesn’t have a long battery charge, I carry a power brick and cords with me. I walk one to three miles before and after my writing sessions. Carrying that weight had become comfortable. It was especially so in the summer’s smoky heat, when temperatures popped into the high nineties to over a hundred, and the valley trapped wildfire smoke that drifted down from the mountains.
Besides that, my laptop bag had worn through in a few places. I’d paid fifty dollars for the leather and vinyl creation, more than twice what I’d paid for the fabric bag it replaced.
I’d decided that I needed a back pack variation. I found an Eagle Creek convertible laptop backpack that was large enough for my HP. This one was available for one hundred fifty-nine dollars, over three times what I’d paid for the other one. But, I use it every day, and I needed a more comfortable way to transport my laptop. So I pried open the wallet and put out the cash.
I’m pleased that I did. I’ve used it for a month and it’s much easier to strap that thing onto my back and hike around town. It feels surprisingly light.
I also have a large, wheeled laptop bag that I employ for flying. I decided I’d use the new Eagle Creek bag for my travels to see how it worked.
Again, I was pleased that I did. The Eagle Creek bag has multiple zipped compartments that helped me organize my books, boarding passes, gum, glasses, etc., along with the laptop and its accessories. The new bag fit under the airline seat with ease. It was small enough that I could pull it out from under the seat and put it up against the edge of my seat and have the legroom available during the flight.
All in all, a worthwhile purchase. It looks sturdy and durable. I’ll see if it lasts five years.
Michael Seidel, writer 