The shock of the old: still living in the 20th century

The shock of the old: still living in the 20th century

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Yesterday I wrote about a day in the life of a futurist like me.  At the post’s end I wonder about the most futuristic parts of the day, and the least.

As I worked on that post, off and on during the day, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something.  This morning I wanted to pick that intuition up.  Namely, it’s the way daily life in 2017 is still a very 20th-century endeavor, at least seen during that same day in the life.

I’m fond of David Edgerston’s phrase “the shock of the old.”  That’s from his 2007 book, where he gleefully points out the persistent of older, legacy tech during times we assume are more advanced.  One good example is the widespread use of horses and donkeys for transport during WWII, a conflict universally described as one driven by machines.

Edgerton came to mind yesterday as I drove an automobile largely unchanged since the 1980s over mid-20th-century roads (and in medieval traffic, i.e., Boston).  Intermittent cell phone service knocked me out of the 21st century repeatedly, both outside (Vermont, New Hampshire) and in certain locations within buildings.  I ate trail mix and chips recognizable from the Cold War era.  Dashboard radio crackled news and music much like it did when I was a child (born 1967).

I checked out a physical book from a century-old library, then deposited a physical check to a bank with human tellers.

The two airports I used, Boston Logan and Reagan National, acted in most ways as though it were 1985.  Cockpits largely invisible to mere passengers are more automated, yes, and service is worse.  But we’re still flying jets (mostly) along familiar flight paths, taking off from and landing on well laid runways.  TVs blared their form of mock-journalism – now that content has changed, by declining, and the format has mutated, by being more crowded, but the presentation technology remains.  People still stared at the mounted, public screens.

A lovely example of an industrial-age invention still in use.

This morning I walked across downtown DC to a meeting, and thought a time traveler from 1980 would largely feel at home.  There are new models of cars, but they’re mostly tweaks on Detroit’s old patterns (very few Teslas visible), and they still halt and fume through the old streets. People still walk, or push strollers.  Helicopters and airplanes occasionally move overhead.  There aren’t any jetpacks, slidewalks, personal helicopters, teleportation booths, suicide booths, or flying cars.  No Segues appeared. Smartphones are the major difference, and they are actually not too visible.

In today’s meeting an audience sits on chairs in rows, listening to speakers speaking from a podium.

And so on.  You get the idea.  It is vital for futurists – i.e., anyone thinking of what’s to come – to always bear in mind the past’s firm grip.  While we rightly identify possible changes and new arrivals, we can’t lose sight of what persists.

(previous old-shock posts: on tv ads, on election news; on the new Star Wars movie’s fiercely retro nature)

Edutech

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April 26, 2017 at 03:29AM

The Germs give out the telephone number of a drug dealer on KROQ radio, 1979

The Germs give out the telephone number of a drug dealer on KROQ radio, 1979

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One of the best DJs in American history was Rodney Bingenheimer, whose show Rodney on the ROQ was an important force in bringing punk acts to a wider audience in southern California in the late 1970s. Rodney once described his programming philosophy as “anti-Eagles, anti-beards.”

On November 30, 1979, the Germs joined Rodney in the studio for an hour or so of utterly sophomoric fun. The Germs’ only studio album, (GI), had come out a few weeks earlier; the guys make fun of the producer of the album, Joan Jett, saying that her contribution was “sleeping on the couch.”

The general immaturity of the Germs is fully matched by the callers. Right after a guy calls in just to say “Punk rockers have a 10-inch cock,” another dude calls in wanting to know who this band is. The answer given is “Led Zeppelin.” A few minutes later and they’re reading “satellite numbers” on the air, which was a way you could make free long-distance calls. It’s bullshit but this was just the kind of thing that could have landed KROQ in hot water.

Much of the time Rodney is reading plugs for upcoming gigs, which are just mouthwatering. Bands include the Go-Gos, the Busboys, the Plimsouls, Sham 69, Dead Kennedys, Fear, the Bags, X, and Black Flag.

Around the 32nd minute a woman named Michelle calls the show from the Whiskey, where Madness is playing. One of the gang has some urgent information for her: “Snickers has some really good pot for sale, call 312-960-3662. It might be 714 area code.”

Back in the day, there weren’t very many area codes so it would be assumed that Snickers has a 213 area code, which covered all of downtown Los Angeles, unless otherwise specified. 714 covered Orange County.

I called both of the numbers. They were disconnected. Oh well.
 

 
Germs play the Whiskey on December 23, 1979:

 

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
‘The New Wave’: dorky Hollywood ’77 report features the Germs & Rodney Bingenheimer
‘Product of America’: Members of the Germs and Meat Puppets resurrect a Phoenix punk band from 1978

Posted by Martin Schneider

Must-Read

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April 11, 2017 at 06:10AM

Punycode Phishing Attack fools even die-hard Internet veterans