I wrote a letter to my grandmother a little while ago. I was partly reminded of the need for such writing by Luke, but also I had wanted to connect some of my current work with my past. Yesterday my grandmother was here visiting, and she took me aside just before she left. “I have something for you.”
I’ve written before (go read that, I’ll wait) about my grandmother, about my grandfather, and about my connection to a man I never met. He’s been an unseen presence in my life since I was little, a living spirit that infuses my sense of where I came from, what drives me, why I do what I do. My recent work to bring audio data onto the web is partly a nod to a man who also tinkered with sound.
“I had your mother photocopy this, and I want you to have it,” she told me, and pulled a yellowed newspaper article from her purse. In it was told the story of my grandfather making a TV out of radio parts:
What is believed to be the first television receiving set in this district has been constructed by Alex (Scotty) Cassells, 5 Townline, and has been in operation about three weeks. The set will pick up two Cleveland, Ohio stations and one station from Buffalo, N.Y., and the builder states that the receoption is exceptoinoally clear on the Cleveland stations The set was built at a cost of $160, with many parts taken from old radios and some of the parts homemade. The reception is entirely dependent on the weather and it will not operate in damp or rainy weather. It took three months of Mr. Cassell’s spare time to build the set. At present time the aerial is a simple dipole, about 20 feet in length, but the builder hopes to get great reception when he installes a stacked array of aerials, and extends the height to approximately 40 feet. There are 27 tubes in the set. — Tillsonburg News March 31, 1949
So that’s about $1,500 in today’s money, or roughly the amount it costs to get a decent laptop, three months of spare time in his basement, and a bunch of recycled and homemade parts? Sounds really familiar. Lots of things change in 60 years. But not everything.
Things then and now, part II
Yesterday I wrote about a short newspaper article from March 31, 1949. While I was looking at it, I also took a moment to read the surrounding articles. The article itself was actually reprinted as part of the “From Our Early Files” section, and one of a dozen short pieces from 10, 20, 35, 50, and 70 years ago. The context here is useful for what I’m about to say: small town newspaper from March 31, 1959, with articles quoted back as far as 1884.
A few months ago, David Eaves wrote that the best way to understand Twitter was to think of it like a newspaper vs. email. I know exactly what he means, and have been interested to see how often I’ve been referred to his post via blogs, twitter, irc, etc. when people are looking for a shorthand way to say, “see, this is what it is.” However, some people I know who are (or have been) deeply invested in the contemporary newspaper, have commented to me that this metaphor doesn’t work. I think part of the issue here is that the contemporary newspaper is so unlike the newspaper of the past. In particular, it has disconnected itself from the local. It has become what is worth printing instead of what is news, where the arbiter of worth is the national or international news desk. I would also argue that it is this move from covering here to there, that has killed the newspaper: when there becomes what we all discuss, there’s no reason to get that from someone here.
I think Twitter is like the newspaper as it was before they were all bought-up by the same handful of media corporations. What follows is anecdotal evidence to prove my point–where the anecdote is necessarily at the heart of the what is important to the community. Allow me to read you some of what was newsworthy from 1959 to 1884:
1949:
1939:
1924:
1909:
1884:
I love this. Can you imagine anyone caring about a new piano being purchased, a veranda being built, someone buying a vacant lot, the name of a new manager or chief of police? It’s not worth the paper its printed on, irrelevant, and only of interest to a small community of people. And that’s exactly the point. Who cares that people got a new job, are going to an event, are redoing their basement, etc? Well, when its happening within your community, its interesting to read. I could turn any of the above into something you’d write on Twitter (first person vs. third) and the subject matter wouldn’t cause anyone reading Twitter to think it out of place with all the other things being discussed on Twitter right now. It’s not that Twitter has created a new narcissistic space for people to write about trivial aspects of their lives, which no one else will find interesting or useful; it’s that Twitter has tapped into the spirit of the local news, long ago killed by the need for here to be focused on there. We’re only able to be a community when we can share what’s important to us.