Nightglow Window

End Of An Era

First, some gloating.

The work thing—you know, the one that got someone so freaked out yesterday and ended up giving me a headache that lasted all night—turned out to be nothing at all.

Nothing.

Nada.

Zippo.

There’s only one result from the whole episode, and that’s another name on my list.

I’m not vindictive, but I do have a memory like a elephant.

But that’s the end of that, and I’m glad.

The far more interesting bit (at least to me) came later when I tried to open my desk drawer to fish out a quarter for the Coke machine (which really should be called the Diet Dr. Pepper machine in my case).

The drawer was awash in junk and I wondered what was up. I couldn’t find a single thing.

So I started pulling out tapes. You know, the tiny microcassettes that you use in tape recorders. I lost count at 30 from just one drawer, and there was still many more. They had swarmed my desk drawer, spreading like a virus from the The Hot Zone.

Oh, they are so 2005!



Ever since the great Jack’s Surfboard interview debacle, when a two-hour interview was discovered to be nothing but white noise, I’ve switched over to a digital recorder.

That means it’s the end of an era, as microcassettes suddenly lose all value. The Sony transcriber, that I was so protective of, becomes another paperweight.

I’m sure someplace, somewhere someone is enjoying a movie recorded in Betamax. I’m sure there are a few eight-track tapes playing right now. We all know those who swear by vinyl and poo-poo CDs.

But that ain’t me.

Today I packed up all my micro cassettes, which have been such an integral part of my professional life for the past twenty years (eek gads!), and packed them away for posterity.

It’s all digital from here.



Current Music: Flake, Jack Johnson