Stuck in the 1900s

For being the techie that I am, it is surprising even to myself how little I have actually entered the 21st Century. I mean, sure, I have a cell phone with internet access - that came about more from necessity than mere desire: at my job, much of my internet wanderings are blocked by my own department policy, including personal email and it just wouldn't do for me to be blocked from Facebook all day long.

But when your mom tells you in passing that she has a new HDTV and Blu-Ray disc player and you are still gathering around your 27" tube television and hoping that your $50 DVD player doesn't crap out again, you know you're in danger of dinosaur-hood.

I was reading a friend's blog today about instant gratification in the 21st Century and realizing that I am living the life he fondly remembers before the days of Netflix On-Demand and it really isn't so bad. In a less-is-more kind of way, the pomp and circumstance of my once-yearly viewing of The Wizard of Oz endeared me to the story of Dorothy's strange journey (no, it wasn't just a dream, silly!) and it is still one of my favorite movies.

Of course, less isn't always more but with so many channels, I can choose for myself which needs less and which needs more. I own the DVD for Independence Day, my husband bought it for me for one of my recent birthdays because I have a tendency to watch it whenever it is on television, which is a lot. It and Dazed and Confused and several other movies that tickle me in some retro way (or in my sick fascination with the Apocalypse way) will always have the ability to stop my hand on the remote. And despite the fact that I now own several of those DVDs, I will still stop on those movies whenever they appear on television, even as the DVDs gather dust.

It's a Freebie. Same thing when WXRT plays "Backwards Down the Number Line" on my morning commute. Sure, I could queue up Phish's Joy album when I get to work and hear the same version of the same song but it won't make me nearly as giddy as when it randomly appears on the radio without any intervention of my own. Same thing with movies on TV. How many times have I been in a frustrated, I-just-want-to-kick-back-and-lose-myself-in-Hollywood kind of mood only to find The Day After Tomorrow on FX and - voila! - the destruction of New York is upon me?

And while I can be envious of those of my friends who have TIVO or DVR technology (or working iPods, or iPhones or fast computers or HDTVs and Blu-Rays), I know that I would still stop and watch Independence Day every single time I saw it on TBS and that I would only watch The Wizard of Oz every once in a blue moon when the mood hits me just right. That's just the way I'm built.

Hey, I Know You - You?re The End

With this early-rising job of mine, I have had to develop a morning routine just to successfully get out the door on time. I get up, use the restroom, feed the cat, put in my contacts (that?s a new move and not one I?m entirely sure will stay on full-time ? my new, un-broken glasses should be ready this week), get dressed, make coffee (if Jay didn?t already set it to go off), make breakfast and sit down to eat while watching the morning news on Fox ? the local Fox channel, not the national ?news? outlet (in quotes because the terminology is in question in regards to that channel). Chicago?s Fox channel is nothing like the national Fox channel and I like the anchors and the traffic lady and weather man are usually pretty spot-on.

While watching the local Fox news yesterday morning, I had an eerie d?j? vu.

Jan Jeffcoat and Patrick Elwood, the anchors of Good Day Chicago, spent much of my viewing portion of the newscast discussing the Swine Flu epidemic sweeping through Mexico and starting to pop up in various other countries, including America, while, at the same time, the same news monopolized the ticker at the bottom.

I?ve seen this before, somewhere. And no, not on 9/11.

I racked my brain till the second I turned the TV off and headed out to work, but came to no conclusion. It was most likely a misplaced d?j? vu, as most are. And my mind swirled around larger issues ? I had an appointment in court that morning for a speeding citation (46 in a school zone ? my invisibility cloak is no more).

After court (the cop never showed, the citation was dropped), when my mind had cleared, I remembered the d?j? vu and I realized where the memory came from. I had seen a very similar TV broadcast scene in I Am Legend, and perhaps several other end-of-the-world movies, like The Day After Tomorrow or 28 Days Later.

(Perhaps one of my favorite genres in film ? the Apocalypse, sans religious connotations, of course. I don?t know why but the end of the world fascinates me, and if New York City is, in any way, shape or form, involved, all the better. Which is not to say I have anything against New York. I?ve been to the city, once, over a span of 20 hours, on New Years Eve, for a Phish show, their first in over 2 years, my now-husband asked me to marry him there, at the Phish show, one of the best shows I?ve ever seen, and I?m not saying that because of the music. I thought New York was exciting. Of course, I was in Manhattan ? roaming around Madison Square Garden before and after the show ? and that is probably one of the most exciting 22.7 square mile regions in the world. I think what gives me the extra thrill boost when the Entertainlypse happens in New York City is that it literally takes the region from one very vibrant extreme to another. Face it, if you showed the effect of an apocalypse upon Sapulpa, Oklahoma, the entertainment value would be far, far less.)

So, once I realized where the memory came from and the outcome in that memory, I started to wonder if I (we, but I always think in I because I?m a narcissist) was witnessing the start of an apocalyptic snowball. The signs were there ? sober newscasters, ticker full of dire tidings, people wearing surgical masks in public. This could very well be The End. Fini. Fin. I?m so glad I realized that before it actually got here. It would have sucked if I had been surprised. At least now, I have time to take up smoking again. I?d hate to die of a pig virus without a cigarette on my lips. Phew. Thank you Good Day Chicago!

Hold it, you mean I probably won?t die?

Shit.

Pass the Nicorette.