:mylog:

april 2, 2008: It finally happened to me. I suppose it was a long time coming, considering most commercials abandoned annoying jingles about a decade ago. I always bristled a little when I heard a song from my childhood or college days appropriated to sell cars, clothes, beer, etc. Yes, I was shocked by the use of "Revolution" by the Beatles to sell Nikes, and the resurrection of Nick Drake via "Pink Moon" and Volkswagen. But the impact was fairly muted, perhaps because the songs were not from "my" generation, or because I was already a cynical consumer/citizen when this trend invaded television full-force in the 90s. As it turns out, a little bit of me is still soft inside, hopeful that my most precious memories will not be commercialized. I am a fool.

Last night, appropriately on April Fool's Day I suppose, while I was watching The Colbert Report, a song that never ceases to pull me back to my college years compelled me to look up from my paper-grading during the commercial break. (Yes, dear students, I grade your papers while I watch television, as I'm sure you write them while watching the tube as well). It was "I Melt with You" by Modern English. I really love that song, not only for the awesome humming stanza mid-song, but for all the memories of Sigma Nu (the anti-frat, frat) parties at Penn State, late night stickies at the 24/7 townie diner, MTV the early years (Nina Blackwell and Martha Quinn, hello?), and working the copy desk for The Daily Collegian. Though I never bought the album (After the Snow), I have the song on like 7 mixed-tapes made for me by various friends from high school to graduate school, and it was among the first five songs I got off Napster back when it was "free".

I can hear you rolling your eyes at my ire, perhaps thinking "ain't she quaint?" or "what's her deal? Get with the times, lady?" I actually share the latter response, to an extent. When not a single student in my introduction to media class owns a radio and music videos are hard to find on MTV, commercials and film and television soundtracks are the most significant distributors of music today: Feist breaks out with her "1234" iPod spot, Death Cab for Cutie finally gets the recognition it deserves via Seth's angst on The O.C., and Natalie Portman gives The Shins not one, but two shout-outs in Garden State. Contemporary musical artists are smart to solicit script writers in the same way product placement agency's cuddle up to media producers. This reflects the current realities of pop music to be sure. But the nostalgia in me will continue to wish that the past (my past, of course) will somehow remain pure, untouched by crass capitalism, and free of fast food beans and cheese.

january 26, 2008: Last weekend I saw Cloverfield and was pleasantly surprised at the quality of J.J. Abrams "monster movie". As audience have heard by now, the entire film is shot from the perspective of one person holding a consumer-grade digital video camera. Along with the handheld jostling and poor light quality you would expect from "home movies" the film also captures the hyper-documented life to which many people (especially younger generations) have become accustom. As a colleague recently pointed out during a lecture, nearly all of us carry around at least one device which allows us to take a photograph, if not also a short video, of any moment in our lives. This seems obvious, but it wasn't so long ago that cameras were only carried deliberately, when you knew something might "happen" that needed a visual record - a birthday celebration, concert, vacation. Removing the need for film processing has nearly eliminated any concern about the cost of taking pictures, save for the memory capacity of our digital camera/cell phone. What is at least one result of this technological change? A massive increase in how many personal photographs we take, share and collect. A quick browse of facebook, myspace and flickr tell us a bit about what we are compelled to capture - ourselves of course (including endless photos of our pets, our babies, our lost weekends)! Documenting our lives is the new national pastime, a point Time magazine "officially" declared when its cover deemed "YOU" person of the year in 2006. 

The darkside of egocasting I witnessed after Cloverfield made my heart sink and my blood boil. A man, clearly a vagrant perhaps homeless and certainly dirty, tired and unhealthy, had found his way into the theater. He disturbed no one during the film as he slept alone in an aisle seat. After the show, several teenagers whipped out their cell phones to take pictures of this "spectacle", some posing on either side of the sleeping man, laughing, pointing and acting more idiotic and rude than I could stomach. Ignoring him, which most of us choose to do when confronted with disheveled members of our species, seemed so much more humane at that moment. Leave him alone! I wanted to shout. Show some sympathy! I wanted to implore. Instead I told two theater employees (also teenagers) to have their manager remove the gentleman from the theater. I didn't think it wise for the two kids, holding sweepers and trash bins, to navigate the delicate and often intimidating task of asking someone to leave the premises. 

The obvious righteousness I felt in that moment, and admittedly still feel, toward the cell phone wielding teenagers makes me pause. I imagine those photos posted to myspace pages ("Hey everybody, look what I saw yesterday! Ins't that hilarious!) with comments from friends that range from "LOL" to "Did he pee on himself?" The cynic in me imagines they are not discussing why the most affluent society on the planet can't house and feed all its citizens. As an educator and scholar of new media, I struggle to teach young people that technology allows us to do cool things we never could before, but also challenges our moral being. Just because we can, should we? We can rip copyrighted music, but should we? We can alter photos almost perfectly, but should we? We can cyber-stalk exes, but should we? We can take photos of fellow human beings in the gutter and post them as "joke picture of the day", but should we?

august 30, 2007: As summer comes to a close, I look back and sigh. Not nearly as much as I had hoped was accomplished at either work or play. But I do tend to overpack...The onset of fall is always a time of transition for me, dictated by the academic calendar which has ruled my life since age 5. Perhaps more so than January 1st, I contemplate what has passed and what lies ahead. Things I'm happy to see go include Karl Rove and Alberto Gonzales. I will miss beach chairs on the Cape and sailing the Hobie. While I cherish my summers "off", the nerd in me gets excited for the school year to begin again. And there is so much to look forward to in the coming months. On my list: The updated Mac OS (Leopard) will finally be released so I can get a shiny new machine for 'work'; Halo 3 (my sole reason for purchasing an XBox 360) hits shelves on September 25; and the Boston live music line up promises to rock my after work hours until mid-November. Oh yeah, and a new crop of eager, intelligent, highly motivated students take their seats in my classes next week ;-) Happy fall!

july 30, 2007: I noticed today that a telephone worker was removing all the public phones from my office building. Yet another sign of how cell phone culture has changed our access to communications technology in a mere decade. For most of us, the public telephone is obsolete; a redundancy that is inconvenient and (compared to our cell service contract) expensive. However, it is no small loss for those among us who cannot or choose not to own a cell phone. Imagine, where would you make a call if you were away from home or the office and forgot your cell? The public phone is also a safety device. You don't need a quarter to dial 911 to reach emergency dispatch. Since I was a college freshman, I learned to locate all the public phones on campus and learned a useful tip from my self-defense instructor: If you are being chased, pick up a public phone, dial 911, leave it hanging, run to the next phone and repeat. I never had to try this, but apparently emergency dispatch can track where the 911 calls are coming from and send a police car in your direction. Finally, for the sake of us all, I wonder where Superman will find a convenient and semiprivate place to change when disaster strikes.