Going Viral in the pre-digital age!

Wow, try to find the answer to the question "when did the digital age officially begin" and you'll get all sorts of answers. The best I found was this one on Ask.com:

When Did the Information Age Begin?
Answer: Though there is no exact starting date for the Information Age, the term has been used extensively since the late 1980's and has continued on into the 21st century. The Information Age is also sometimes called the Computer Age.

Having lived through those years and studied computer science waaaaay back when, I can tell you that the only expression I'd heard back in the 80s was the Information Age. And when I recall studying IBM 370 mainframe Assembler using keypunch cards, I have a real hard time thinking of back then as being in the same era with today. I personally tend to think of the digital age as not beginning until the late 90s - when most everyone finally owned or had access to cell phones/PCs, etc. Anyway, the reason I'm thinking about that now is that I've been thinking about things that "go viral" and Andy Warhol's prediction that "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes." Nostradamus could only dream of making a prediction that was so accurate. Post a YouTube video of a spectacular fall or a cute child singing a song or tweet something incredibly insightful or humorous and you have your fifteen minutes. Hell, I saw a tweet that consisted entirely of the word meow hit double digits in retweets. Inevitably, I came around to wondering if something of mine would ever go viral. And all of that reminded me of something that happened in the mid to late-80s.

Life back then must seem pretty primitive to young people today. I had no cell phone, some of our televisions did not have remote controls, and I'd just gotten my first ATM card. I was young, strapped for cash, and lived in an "apartment" with only a toaster oven for cooking and a bathroom sink to do dishes in. In my youthful naivete, I loved it. Then again, we were easily impressed back then. I mean I thought it was great that people no longer had rotary phones, especially after I learned that in some places, the emergency help number was 999! That just seemed cruel to me. I could imagine being hacked apart by a serial killer while waiting for the dial to return so I could dial the second and third nines. Do you have any idea how long it took to dial 999 on an actual dial?

Anyway, my first apartment may have been a bit crude, but I did have cable (although MTV was about the only thing I watched because they actually aired only videos at the time), Nintendo, lots of albums (gasp), CDs and a VCR.

Now, when I was very young, my parents would watch The Rockford Files, and I always thought the fact that he had an answering machine was so cool. Nobody I knew had one - not that I got out much at that age, but it seemed like something out of a science fiction story (give me a break, I was young). Naturally, now that I had my own place, I needed an answering machine. Initially, my boyfriend and I made the typical boring messages, but I soon craved more creativity so I combined two things I liked: music (Black Sabbath) and comedy (Monty Python and the Holy Grail) to make a message that was more my style. I recorded part of the Bridge of Death scene (keep in mind, with the primitive tools available, that meant sitting at a non-distorting distance from the small television speaker with a tape recorder). I only wanted the questions, so I had to play with it quite a bit until I was able to string the dialogue together in a somewhat continuous flow (What is your name? What is your quest? and What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?). I then added my own message using what I hoped was a creepy voice to say "Please leave your name and number at the tone" while the storm at the beginning to the Black Sabbath album played in the background.

Pretty amateurish given what can be done today, but we liked it. And apparently so did other people. Within a few weeks, the machine started receiving hangups. In fact, eventually we would come home to find the machine full almost every day, though we had no idea why. One day, I answered the phone and the surprised person on the other end of the line said, "Oh, sorry, I didn't want to talk to you. I was told to call this number and listen to the message!" At least I finally knew why the machine was filling up. Don't forget that back then, phone service was more expensive. You only had unlimited calling within your area code. I lived in a border town between counties, meaning I had to pay long distance to call friends a few blocks away, so it's actually pretty impressive that we got so many calls. I can't help but wonder if it had been a video on YouTube that got that popular how many views it would have garnered? And like viral videos, I got some hate messages, as well. One caller had mistakenly dialed the number while trying to reach a business and left a scathing "that's no way to talk to customers and do business" message!

So, now that I think about it, things aren't that much different today. The means we use to accomplish tasks has changed, but the overall way in which people seek entertainment hasn't really changed that much. But if Andy Warhol was right, I guess I already had my "fifteen minutes."

The Slipcover Incident

I am writing this blog entry with the blurry vision of a slightly concussed person, so bear with me. I will start by revealing that this is my first ever experience with a slipcover.

I have dogs. And cats. Lots of cats. So my sofa count should come as no surprise - I'm on either my sixth or my seventh, but like my vision, it's all a blur. It was finally time for the old couch to give up the ghost. The dogs had eaten most of the stuffing which left the material loose and hanging in tatters. The back and sides of the sofa looked like they were fringed, thanks to the cats completely shredding them while 'doing their nails', which are now nice and sharp. Trust me. I know from firsthand experience. Anyway, as I looked at the sorry state of my home furnishings, I decided that the best way to achieve harmony with my furbabies (given that I'm hopelessly outnumbered) is to try to stop problems, annoyances and damage before they happen. Hey, it sounded like a good plan when I came up with it...

Hence, the slipcover. Now, the specs for said item insisted it would fit sofas from 74 to 96 inches. Mine is 83, so I thought 'cool, that'll work.' I covered the new couch with blankets and sheets while I eagerly awaited the arrival of the cover that would protect my new furniture from my marauding housemates.

Finally, the box showed up on my doorstep. A choir of angels burst into song and I even think I saw an aura of golden light surrounding it. I pulled it inside and ripped it open, desperate to get at my new sofa's savior. Once freed of its packaging, I flipped the cover around several times before I saw the little stickers that read front, back, etc. I followed the labels and soon had my beautiful new furniture covered up. Except that there was this weird puckered section I had to sit on. Out came the instructions from the box - I'm terrible about reading instructions, guides, etc. before I make an attempt to use/install/apply anything new. Plus, who'd have thought you'd need instructions to put a slipcover on? Anyway, according to the instructions, I'm supposed to tuck the elastic strip behind the couch's cushions. Now, the slip cover seemed to fit fine until I attempted to do this. Actually, it still fit, but two broken fingernails and one aching back later, I'd only barely managed to tuck the strip under the top lip of the cushions. No way in hell was I going to be able to get it all the way under them so I left it as it was.

It lasted one day. Not only was it pulled off the back by the dogs' frantic attempts to get out through the window to kill ... I mean lick the mailman, but one had taken her bone onto the couch and drooled everywhere. Good thing I left those little back/front labels on! I put it in the washing machine, more than a little sad at having to wash it after only one day. When it came out of the dryer, it smelled like mountain rain, at least that's what the label on my fabric softener says - frankly, I've been to the mountains and don't remember them smelling like that especially when wet, but I digress. I laid it out and looked for the labels. You know what happens to things that are applied with an adhesive backing in the wash? They move. Now I'm no expert, but though the labels were still on, I'm fairly certain that they no longer accurately marked the back and front of the cover. After a great battle, I had the slipcover in place - more or less. Once again, I tried to tuck the strip behind the cushions. And once again, I failed.

New plan, put the sheet and blanket back on over the slipcover. Sure I had to wash the sheet or blanket or both several times a week, but it beat struggling with the damned slipcover. That worked until the dogs went off in another of their nobody's-allowed-to-walk-on-my-street frenzies. They pulled the sheet and blanket off, leaving my precious cover exposed and vulnerable. They then got muddy paw prints all over everything.

With a heavy heart, I removed the slipcover for washing again. Once clean, I realized that I no longer care to even try to tuck it down. I got it remotely close to appearing to be lined up and covered it with the sheet and blanket again. It may not look great, but it took a whole lot less time than fighting to tuck it. Then I looked down and saw that I had to retie the strips that hold the sides and front and back down. Personally, I no longer cared if it looked nice and neat, but a hanging strip of cloth like that is an invitation for a cat or dog to go to town on it, so I bent over and knotted the strips. And as I stood, I banged my head on the window ledge. Hard. Thus the blurry vision and budding headache.

Remind me again what those furry little monsters do for me? Oh yeah. The news says having pets can lower your blood pressure. Really? because I'm thinking I could have pinned the meter a few minutes ago when I realized that I spent a ton of money on what is now nothing more than a blanket rack. I closed my eyes and repeated my centering mantra: it's a good thing I love them, it's a good thing I love them, it's a good thing I love them ...