infrogmation: (Default)
(another in Froggy's youthful memories series)

In 1973 I was with my family in Mérida, Yucatán. The city did not seem significantly less modern to me than the U.S.A. or London, but the countryside was quite a different matter. Mérida had the peninsula's modern international airport, back when Cozumel still had a gravel landing strip served by small prop planes, and Cancun was still a dream in developers' imaginations.

One day at a market with my older sister, we were talking to a country Maya woman who came in to the market. She asked if we two blonde haired people came from far away. Did we come by bus? No, Sister explained, we came by airplane. "Airplane," the woman repeated looking at us for a moment, then asking, "Is it true that the sky has no end?"

One weekend my Dad took the family to the famous ruins of Chichen Itza. We drove west on a well paved two lane road, which most people drove down the center of, except when passing vehicles going the other way. Piste was the town nearest the ruins, and my Dad had been informed he could get the gas tank refilled there. He went up and back the length of the small town without seeing a gas station, so he asked someone. He was directed to a non-descript shop building, where he knocked on a door. The man who answered asked how many liters he wanted, then came out with a big metal milk can of gas, a smaller can used to scoop and measure, and a funnel.

So, yes, I am old enough to remember my dad getting gasoline for his automobile at the hardware store, before these newfangled gas pumps had popped up everywhere.
infrogmation: (Default)
In 1978 I was attending Tulane University in New Orleans.

One day in the University Center, I smelled and saw someone smoking in the non-smoking section. Four men in dark suits were seated at a table with the smoking man, a stocky late middle aged guy in a sports-coat. They didn't look like faculty. Visiting relatives of a student, I guessed. There was a a ring of empty tables around them.

I walked up to them. The four men in dark suits straigtened up and watched as a approached, but the smoking man paid me no mind, continuing to talk to the others until I reached the group.

"Pardon me, sir," I said as he stopped short and turned to stare at me with at "WTF" expression. "You're in the non-smoking section, sir," I said gesturing to a clearly visible sign. No reply. Gesturing to my right I continued in a polite but firm tone, "I see there are plenty of free tables in the smoking section."

He straightened up in his chair and loudly snarled at me: "I'll do what I want! I'm the mayor around here! Get outta here!" The other men glowered at me.

I shrugged my sholders, turned, and walked away with a shake of my head. What a jerk, I thought to myself. What an absurd thing to say, "I'm the mayor around here"; I could tell he was neither Dutch Morial, the new mayor, nor former mayor Moon Landrieu.

As soon as I'd turned the corner to be out of the line of sight of the table, another man approached me and asked "Do you know who that is?"

"No."

Read more... )
infrogmation: (Default)
Interesting short interview with S.F. writer William Gibson from Rolling Stone

One point I find interesting is his observation on the Sony Walkman:


"The very first time I picked up a Sony Walkman, I knew it was a killer thing, that the world was changing right then and there. A year later, no one could imagine what it was like when you couldn't move around surrounded by a cloud of stereophonic music of your own choosing. That was huge! That was as big as the Internet!"


I am just old enough to remember the Walkman phenomena and the technological state before it, and had a very different impression.

I had a Walkman (or one of its early clones) and enjoyed using it, but at the time regarded it as a minor improvement of existing technology with a large dose of marketing hype.

Walkman article on Wikipedia

When I was a little kid in the 1960s, there were already "Transistor" radios about the size of a pack of cigarettes that one could listen to with an earphone jack. (I take it that the technology was fairly new at the time, and I recall slang use of the term "transistorized" to mean something made improbably small.)

By the early 1970s, there were cassette tape recorders just slightly larger than a hard-cover book that one could easily carry with one hand, and listen to either with the built-in speaker or through an earphone. (I saw cheap cassette player/recorders at Radio Shack within the last year that look little changed from those of more than 30 years ago.)

The Walkman-- okay, they made it smaller, in part by elimiating the built in speaker. And instead of an ear-plug, a pair of tiny cheap-ass headphones. OK, but I rolled my eyes at the advertising that proclaimed it somehow revolutionary.

Perhaps the stereo rather than mono is what particularly impressed some people? I consider stereophonic sound reproduction nifty, but when the audio isn't particularly high-fidelity to begin with, a minor point.
infrogmation: (Default)
Young Froggy in two photos from my mother's collection

Read more... )
infrogmation: (Default)
YouTube video from the Johnny Cash show, 28 October 1970:

Louis Armstrong and Johnny Cash do Blue Yodel #9

Satchmo would be dead in less than a year, but he's in great form here.

June 2025

S M T W T F S
1234567
8910111213 14
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 20th, 2025 07:34 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios