Ideapad

Blogging since 1998. By David Wertheimer

Page 99 of 130

TiVo SchmeeVo

A few years ago I won a TiVo, then sold it on eBay when I decided I didn’t want to pay the monthly fee. I wasn’t enough of a television wacher at the time to justify it.

Three years on, my television-commercial-producing wife and I watch a fair amount of television, and a DVR would make our lives much easier. But we weren’t about to pay $300 for a new TiVo box. Amy spent a decent amount of time ribbing me for selling something so good without considering the long-term ramifications.

The silver lining in our TiVo-less apartment is that Time Warner Cable is a remarkably savvy company, and as a result, we got our first DVR cable box Saturday. The future is now: the “clicker” has now evolved into a programmable system with a 50-gig hard drive and one-click recording.

I spent the weekend appreciating the novelty of the DVR system, hitting the instant-replay button countless times on George Steinbrenner saying “Oh!” in his latest Visa ad. But the true promises of the system were exposed Sunday night, when Amy got called to work and missed the “Sex and the City” finale.

It occurred to me that at last I could set the TV to tape a show without any aggravation (after years of not learning how to program my VCR). And indeed, it couldn’t have been easier:

  1. Hit the Guide button like I do every day to check the listings.
  2. Zoom to the listing for “Sex and the City”—by station, time, title, or theme—and press the Select button as though I were jumping to view it right now.
  3. Press the Select button again on “record this show.” Done.

I watched the show live (even paused it at one point), and the missus watched it on the DVR when she came home. Bingo bango.

I’m sure this sounds like basic stuff to anyone comfortable with a VCR, but the quantum leap here is in the simplification. For once, technology actually makes a process shorter. No more seeking out the right sub-menus to enter start date, end date, time, and channel. No more setting the digital cable box to jump to the channel that matches the VCR. No more looking for the right videotape wound to the right spot. Terrific.

The DVR itself creates some trade-offs with the cable service. The menus and channel switching are slow, and TWC has a new menu font that’s not as easy to read as the old system’s. The remote is huge.

The additional features, though, far outweigh the drawbacks. In addition to its DVR functionality, the box has two tuners, so it’s an automatic watch-and-record box. The cable box has picture-in-picture. The sound and picture quality seem a little more crisp, too; I remember griping about the jpeg-style pixelization of my first digital cable box.

The DVR cable box costs $7 more than a standard digital cable system. After two days, I can already tell that it’s money well spent.

Summary

Scene: The Pahu i’a Restaurant at the Four Seasons Hualalai on the Big Island of Hawai’i, six nights into the honeymoon. David is wearing a green linen shirt and light-colored linen pants. Amy is wearing a black sundress with small red and yellow flowers.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Wertheimer are seated at an ocean-view table just before sundown. The maitre d’ gets the newlyweds comfortable and places menus and a wine list on the table. He then addresses Amy:

“Mrs. Wertheimer, I see you are wearing a black dress this evening. Would you like a black napkin this evening so you don’t get any lint from our white napkins on your dress?”

Needless to say, we had a terrific vacation. Our wedding was just about perfect. More tales in the coming days.

Whirligig

Consulting project: done.

Other consulting project: done.

Dance lessons: done.

Dog-sitting: arranged.

Newspaper: stopped.

Apartment: cleaned.

Pre-event massage: ahhhh.

Homework assignments: some done, some packed (sigh).

Clothes, music, reading, and personal effects: packed.

Car service: ordered.

Table assignments: finalized.

Rehearsal and breakfast: organized.

Speech: written.

Tuxedo: tailored.

Tuxedo shirt: pressed.

Tuxedo shoes: tied.

Hand-tied bow tie: getting there.

And away we go. See you in September.

An unprovoked comment on MP3 swapping

Long before the advent of peer-to-peer file sharing, I was taping my friends’ LPs and CDs onto cassette to sample in my car. I have hundreds of classic rock albums on Maxell XLII90s in storage in my parents’ house.

I bought a CD burner in 1998 and burned scores of albums in the years since. When Napster hit I had a field day finding music I hadn’t heard in ages.

I am 30 years old and my music collection now includes more than 150 records, 500 cassettes and 1200 compact discs. The vast majority I bought retail or used. I once estimated that I have spent more than $10,000 on music in my lifetime.

Ten grand.

The unquantifiable portion is what I would have spent had I not had free access to music. It easily could be less. Would I have shelled out $60 for the first Led Zeppelin box set had I not taped their studio albums years earlier? Would I own six Morphine albums if I didn’t possess a burned copy of their debut first?

I do not disagree that file sharing has hurt the RIAA’s sales; a 25 percent decline in three years is severe. But the argument cuts both ways.

Got a light?

The clock–if I had a running clock–would read 11:15 p.m. The passage of time is one of the only normal things this evening; that and the dog’s desire to throw his bone around for awhile are about the only constants.

Interestingly, very little emotion followed this afternoon’s blackout (as the following details will reveal). The air conditioner made funny noises at 4:10. I glanced from my computer to the sofa and asked the dog, “What are those noises, pup?” Next thing we knew there was no power. My fiancee, Amy, was stuck in midtown, but Charley and I were safe and sound, so we hunkered down and waited.

Amy showed up close to six, not long after my phone briefly allowed for a few incoming calls, from her and from a friend in Chicago. Amy and I trekked down 11 flights of stairs to walk the dog, and I retrieved my car from the parking lot under the building. We quickly found a parking spot and returned upstairs to monitor the evening’s events.

Around 8 p.m. we decided not to bother driving anywhere, since traffic was so overwhelming, and at 9:30 we made a trip back downstairs (22!) to walk the dog. Not much else to tell. We had half a dozen candles and two flashlights to light the apartment, and we discovered the NYU Palladium dorm across 14th Street has massively bright emergency lighting in its glassed-in upstairs hallways, so our blinds are wide open and providing a fairly normal overnight glow.

On our first trip downstairs we bought bananas and water and haven’t really consumed either. Amy made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. I didn’t eat. I read the paper–too weird a night to do classwork and too impossible to access my consulting files. Amy went to bed at 10:30 and I snuffed the candles at 11.

If you’re wondering, I’m on a laptop using a dialup account. One of the major gaffes of our day is not having a phone that runs without electrical power; the telephone system is working fine, if you can get to it.

Authorities hope to have power by morning. If we get up (with the sun around 6 a.m., since the blinds are wide open) and we are still shut down, we’ll be reverse commuting to our parents for a shower. And that’s that.

Oh, and Amy’s cell phone has worked most of the evening on her Verizon network while my AT&T GSM phone crapped out as usual. I am so ready for number portability.

And air conditioning.

Hot enough for ya?

Sitting in the back of a taxicab earlier this week, I glanced at the partition and noticed the name on the cabbie’s hack license:

SUET NG

And I thought, Well, in this weather. …

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