Nostalgia

I used to think nostalgia meant Norman Rockwell pictures of Americana or—in my particular case—pictures of thatched cottages and Wind in the Willows animals from my early childhood in England. I now think of nostalgia as being life as it was lived last year or, in some cases, last week.

This revelation came to me as I was listening to Public Radio reporting on the CES (Consumer Electronic Show for the uninitiated) being held in Las Vegas. Apparently, every electonics producer (except for Apple, which has its own show) hurries into town to display the new, the experimental, and the as yet undreamed of. Among this year’s offerings are a 12-foot flat TV, a car that drives itself, and wireless devices that do away with the need for cables anywhere.

While this is all mystifying enough, I found myself completely buried by a discussion of whether HD DVD or Blu-ray would become the Beta (obsolete) of the next decade. As far as I can tell, the competition—as it was for VHS and Beta—involves two Japanese companies duking it out for dominance. The Japanese have a nice saying that covers this: when elephants dance the grass beneath them suffers. I feel like a blade of grass.

I learned about the Beta-VHS contest because I, of course, had a Beta. That system shortly disappeared along with the movies in that format. I could still play what I had on the Beta machine but all the new releases were VHS. I felt cheated. l felt I had bought a horse without knowing that I was only betting on it.

Then, to make matters worse (for me, not the tech companies), I no sooner had learned to use my VHS system than DVD started coming out and required all new equipment. DVD was a great improvement in quality but the equipment and things to play on it all cost money. This time, having been burnt once, I was suspicious. I bought the DVD player eventually but never invested in a library of DVDs. Good thing. Now I understand that DVDs are expected to be replaced by wireless downloads and hence the heat over the format and discs. I don’t pretend to understand any of this. I have just figured out how to play Netflix films on my DVD player cabled into my non-flat, non-HD TV. The only thing I know is that it will probably cost me money.

I'm a dinosaur. I admit it. I’m not attracted by the idea of hand-held computers: trifocals and tiny screens don’t mix very well. I’m not attracted by carrying music with me. I think there’s enough noise in the world as it is. I am not excited about new things when I have just become comfortable with the old. The tech companies don't market to me because they know that I'll not jump on the latest thing. They play a waiting game with me because they know they'll get me in the end.

That’s why I think I understand Norman Rockwell now as I hadn’t when I was younger. I’d love to find a thatched cottage in rolling green countryside where the birds peck on my window for food and the foxes play with their cubs down by the stream. But, even if I could afford that--with my luck, there’d probably by a cell-phone tower on top of the nearest hill.