Computer Chronicles was a TV show that aired on the U.S. west coast for twenty years starting in 1981. The Internet Archive is currently hosting all (?) episodes of the series; a full list can be seen here.
My favorite episodes are generally the special reports from COMDEX (Computer Dealers' Exhibition), a now-defunct computer trade show held each fall in Las Vegas from 1979 to 2003 (a spin-off COMDEX/Spring debuted in 1981). The CES (computer Electronics Show) and MacWorld Expo episodes are great, too. Anyone interested in retro tech or the historical timeline of personal computing should appreciate these videos. Each one is about ~28 minutes runtime.
I am beginning a new series of posts where I share music videos of cassette singles I bought as a kid and have managed to hold onto up through the present. I'll try to keep this going as long as I can, though lack of reader interest would probably be a dealbreaker.
This is a repost of an article I wrote very shortly after starting up this website. I've gone back through and made some changes and clarifications, and thought it deserved a spot back at the top of the pile. :)
Conceived and launched at the age of twelve, the Song Diary project has been around in various incarnations since 1991. It’s a record of my weekly listening habits and a timeline to reference particular points in my life as they correlate to the music I was listening to. The songs chosen may be new discoveries of mine or songs I'm already acquainted with that are significant for that particular week.
WHAT'S THE POINT?
There really isn't a point to it all. But there is a madness behind it! My personality is such that I feel compelled to chronicle items and events for later reference. Fortunately, I tend to be practical enough in deciding what should merit such time and energy, in my own opinion at least. Now, add to this a nostalgic obsession, and there you have it!
This is my excuse.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY "VARIOUS INCARNATIONS"?
Well, I haven't always approached the task the way I do now. Since about 2001, I have been keeping a record of songs on a weekly basis, but prior to that it was really more of a monthly, or seasonal thing. The change really came about when I made the switch from analog tapes to CDs. As any practiced mixtaper can tell you, making a mixtape is—in comparison to a mix CD—difficult business, requiring (among other things) a great deal of time. Back when I was using tapes, I simply didn't have the time or patience to invest on a weekly basis.
WHAT HAPPENED IN 1991 TO BRING ABOUT THIS ABERRANT BEHAVIOR?
That seems so long ago, being eleven years old. The details are hazy to say the least. I can't say for certain why it was that I began doing this, but I suspect that I was inspired by seeing various countdown-type segments on MTV. This was also around the same time that my interest in music really started to escalate. I was graduating from the role of 'passive listener' to 'active listener' – actively seeking out stuff to listen to whether it was newly released, top 40 radio fodder or not. It was also becoming clear at this point in my life that I was destined to a future of compulsive list-making, as evidenced by my well-preserved, top-left-corner stapled, multiple-page digest of any-and-all toll-free telephone numbers I could get my hands on. If you don't believe me, it's okay. While most preteen boys were out doing whatever it is that most preteen boys do, I was back at home jotting down phone numbers from TV and radio commercials, leaflets, pamphlets, brochures, food boxes, et al. Maybe someday I'll get around to providing actual examples. Maybe.
My memory of the project's inception is fuzzy to say the least, so I shall relate to you the contents of a handful of documents that I have kept all these years, and which are now sitting on the table in front of me. Since I have only a faint recollection for most of the details of these papers, there is an awkward detachment present, as I feel as though I should be able to confidently and succinctly explain this to you, but cannot meet that expectation without "filling in the blanks" to some degree.
Take, for example, the first page, which says:
Johnee Pitdylidhink
** Music Countdown **
for the MONTH of:
NOVEMBER
It should pain me to confess to you that I can offer no insight as to where I came up with the name Johnee Pitdylidhink or, moreover, why I felt the need to take such frivolous liberty in the spelling of the name. My previous stint as "Resident Poetry Analyst" for local radio station D-102 at the ripe age of ten might offer some clues, as I was consistently known to use the alias of Joe Stevenz during those broadcasts, and was, therefore, no stranger to the use of assumed names. I will detail these events in a separate post at some later date. Promise, promise.
That being said, I have flipped the page over, and will now share with you what is, by all accounts, the very first entry in the annals of the Songdiary. As a sidenote, I remember special ordering #3 and #4 from a local record shop when I was still living in Illinois, the name of which I can't recall at the moment.
J.Pitdylidhink Countdown:
Week of 11/03/91
Top 10 CASSETTE SINGLES
1. Color Me Badd - "All 4 Love"
2. EMF - "Lies"
3. R.E.M. - "Losing My Religion"
4. Dire Straits - "Money For Nothing"
5. R.E.M. - "Radio Song"
6. Guns 'N' Roses - "Don't Cry"
7. Scorpions - "Send Me An Angel"
8. Simply Red - "Something Got Me Started"
9. Jesus Jones - "Real Real Real"
10. Chesney Hawkes - "The One & Only"
No shit. And it resides hereOpens in new tab/window. I am also adding a permalink to the Pages / Sections area of the sidebar for anyone who might be interested in tracking my progress.
This article was originally posted to my blog on MySpace in July 2006.
On summer camp days, I was dropped off at the YMCA at 8:00 in the morning. Little time was spent at the Y, however. Instead, 30 or so kids would pile into two conversion vans with 6 counselors, and drive out to Kickapoo state park. I was about 12 years old. It was incredible. I think I even had a couple of girlfriends.
It was understood that the counselors had complete control over the tape deck, but kids brought their tapes from home anyhow, and believe it or not, most of those tapes were played liberally. It was a fantastic preteen road trip day after day. Alice Cooper's album Trash got played a lot. I don't remember where it came from, whether one of the kids brought it, or one of the counselors. It just sort of landed. I'd certainly never heard of Alice Cooper before, I don't think the vast majority of us had. It was most likely a counselor's tape, then, or else something "borrowed from big sis," with or without her permission. What a fucking great album. And I don't mean in that "oh, wow, innovative, groundbreaking" way, quite simply: I fucking rocked out over and over to this tape alongside a sweaty van full of elementary school comrades, and it was good. It quickly became a staple, a permanent fixture in Van #1. I'm convinced it made Van #1 cooler than Van #2. Umbros, slap bracelets, Bart Simpson t-shirts, and Alice Cooper! Much of the content on that tape is overtly sexual, but at the time it totally didn't register. In fact, the words themselves didn't really have any meaning: the joy came entirely from being able to repeat them, to sing along. And the ballads! They sounded especially dramatic.
Swimming, walking trails, inventing games, who likes who, who did what with who, does she like me, does she want to kiss me… and back to the vans, as it were. And we reached a point where we had heard it so much that we could sing along pretty damn well. And I did have girlfriends, I remember this now. Though I can't remember their names, I remember their smiles. And their hair. I think one was named Vanessa. Mom would pick me back up at 6, and we would drive home. But I'd be back the next morning.
That was the first cassette I ever bought. I remember the day — riding to Target in my brother's car… 10 bucks, or something like that… and I took it home, and stared at the cover, and it wouldn't be long before I tried to dress up like that (I think there's a single Polaroid out there somewhere… but I didn't own leather pants so I improvised with black, spandex shorts). My life really began at that point.
Although I made this one a long time ago SEPTEMBER 29 2001 I still think it stands the test of time as a damn good mix tape. Needless to say, I will be bringing it along for the ride.
TRACK LIST: Side A
New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle
Madness - Baggy Trousers
Cyndi Lauper - When You Were Mine
The Smiths - William, It Was Really Nothing
Talking Heads - Stay Up Late
ABBA - Does Your Mother Know?
R.E.M. - Gardening At Night
Pet Shop Boys - Always On My Mind
Queen - Don't Stop Me Now
The Cure - The Exploding Boy
The Toasters - Shocker!
David Bowie - Let's Dance
TRACK LIST: Side B
The Kinks - Come Dancing
Wall Of Voodoo - Mexican Radio
Kenny Loggins - Playing With the Boys
Big Country - In a Big Country
They Might Be Giants - We Want A Rock
Squirrel Nut Zippers - Prince Nez
Belle and Sebastian - My Wandering Days Are Over
Pat Benatar - We Belong
10,000 Maniacs - These Are Days
Pogues - Sally MacLennane
The Mountain Goats - Going To Georgia
The Psychedelic Furs - Heartbreak Beat
The Pixies - Head On
I wonder if I will ever make connections with people like I did when I was a teenager. The friendships then were so much more intimate than any that I have now. With the exception, of course, of the lone friend I have now that I met then and have stayed close to. Oftentimes I really ache inside for more meaningful friendships.. somebody who likes my company enough to just come over without asking, or to call me at least once a week. The number of people that do that now has dwindled. Perhaps I am not trying hard enough. But then again, this could be something that should come naturally, to those who rightfully deserve it by being blessed with certain qualities that make a conscious effort unnecessary. Or perhaps as people get older, they just get busier, and have less time for such things. Or less desire and need.
Tomorrow I will be twenty-six years old. Socially, I feel like I'm 13, I swear. When is this magnificent change going to occur where I no longer hold on to things of the past… cherishing memories that others brushed off long ago? My hairline is receding, so I guess that is some sort of sign. Maybe the beginning. But I still listen to Belle Fucks Sebastian, and Tired-New-Wave-Hits-From-The-80s and I have been doing this for years now.
It's like the older you get, the more people forget about you. More people forgetting more. It makes me want to just disappear to some other part of the country and start seeing all the stuff I ought to see.
I remember, in the days before the Internet became so commonplace, sitting around for hours listening to music on my tape recorder… stopping, rewinding, playing, stopping, rewinding playing… trying to decipher the lyrics, and writing them down.
My tape recorder was small, for the time period it existed in. By today's standards however, it was monsterous. It could easily have been used, if needed, to gain a clear advantage in hand-to-hand combat. The thing was heavy and would most assuredly have cracked a human skull if swung with enough force.
But despite its capabilities of being a tool of death, I sure loved that thing. No pictures exist, sadly. But I scoured Google Images for about 30 minutes before I found this picture, which admittedly bears a pretty strong resemblance… all the way down to the sturdy handle.
Somewhere along the way, I suppose it got thrown away.
I haven't been able to make complete sense out of it, to understand why I start feeling like this. Awful memories begin to flood back, and I catch myself longing for days long gone. My dreams are long, intricate, dramatic stories made of bits and pieces of the past; stories that are difficult to think about and best forgotten. It seems to me, emotionally, that yesterday was always better than today. That last year is always better than this year, and so on. On closer inspection, it is obvious that this is not true. While elements of 2004 have been awfully sad, overall I have to admit that it has been a good year compared to most others. I am in Tallahassee, enrolled in school, making a nice dollar at my job, giving to V89 and receiving so much more than I can say (no, I'm not stealing from catalog.. geesh). I have Amy closeby, and I love her dearly. Five months from now will mark the 10-year anniversary of the day we first met. She has enriched my life in important ways that no one else has before or since.
Finances are in order. I am succeeding in school, as my grades would prove to me. Socially, I'm still an oaf. I try to make bonds with people, I want so badly to succeed with this, but I find myself still very frustrated. Blame lies nowhere, though I see the obstacles posed by myself, by others and by sheer circumstance. That I can see this clearly is an accomplishment in itself, I imagine. I simply need to escape the house more, and when I'm out there, I need to say more and listen more.
So why then do I find myself so crushed by this season?
If I were asked, I would tell you that winter is my favorite time of the year. I suppose I love the weather the most. I love it because it matches more closely this feeling that rules my life. It is a Joy Division song, or a Sigur Ros song, or something from the new, amazing Julian Fane album, Special Forces. It is not cold, for cold does not exist. It is a lack of heat, of warmth, of brethren, of affection. It is empty. It is dark. It is often painful. Yes, I feel these things in the winter, and the winter mirrors me. The same feelings are evident always, at all other times of the year. Perhaps winter makes it okay for these emotions to thrive and sustain themselves, more so than, say, the summer does.
In winter, I am reminded of all who have disappeared. I am reminded of the ones who ran away, the ones who I pushed away, and the ones who just had to go. I am reminded of low organ keys held for long measures. Of "processions moving slowly." I think about good times with people who are nowhere to be found. Sometimes I try to go out and live amongst others, or to invite them into my room, to drink, to laugh, to be wild and crazy. It seldom works. Because all I really want when I feel like this, at this time of year, is to be alone, without interference and surprise. Without spontaneity or interruption.
T-MINUS — 2 hours 10 minutes until departure.
