South Philly Review

I freely admit I have reached the age where I am becoming irrelevant. It is not that I haven’t fought the good fight to avoid living in the past. It is not an easy fight, and ultimately it is futile.

It’s hell keeping up with change. Take my record collection; or do they still call them records? I got rid of my 78s, and then reluctantly my 33 1/3s.

My 8-tracks were here and gone, as were my cassettes. I just put my CDs in some kind of order, but I read where CDs themselves are becoming obsolete. This sounds like a small thing, but the small things are adding up.

I have learned the hard way technology is not my friend. Computers have a life span of what, three to four years? These columns have been typed on a manual then electric typewriter, a word processor, my daughter’s old computer, and at present, a grand high-definition, flat-screened, state-of-the-art model. It took many years before the manual typewriter became obsolete. My word processor became outdated in about a week. Meanwhile, Microsoft keeps changing Windows every two weeks. Note: Contrary to the TV commercials, neither you nor I invented the latest Windows system, which, by the way, is becoming obsolete as I write this piece.

It seems the whole purpose of Apple’s Steve Jobs is to make anyone older than 25 less relevant. It is a full-time job (pardon the pun) to keep with Apple’s continuous stream of new products. Young folks devote their lives to the pursuit of the latest iPod, iPhone or iPad. I am waiting for the old folks version — iQuit. I figured once I went from using a pay phone to a cell phone, I would be ahead of the game. I finally realized we are never supposed to get ahead of the game.

I have had more success keeping up with the latest television technology. I had cable long before most people in this city ever heard of HBO. But I understand that 3-D TV has arrived. Dear reader, I confess that I have no desire to watch golf in 3-D. I don’t trust Tiger Woods in my living room. There might be a reason to view Snooki in 3-D (make that two reasons), but that’s about it.

My kids were always proud that my musical tastes were somewhat current. How my son beamed when he found out that I purchased a Counting Crows CD. I was even listening to the same station as my daughter and son-in-law, WXPN. At some point, WXPN left me behind. Now, I only listen on weekend mornings when their mellow format might include Judy Collins. I recently looked at a list of the best-selling singles in our area and didn’t recognize a single artist.

Our pop culture is deliberately harsh on people my age. No self-respecting radio station programs for anyone older than 50. In the world of ratings, you don’t even count if you are older than 50. There are exceptions to the rule. If you are older than 50, your music can be found on AM radio. It is the station that doesn’t play any artist who is still living. The songs are interspersed with ads for health insurance supplements and laxatives. I find that I am too old for Justin Bieber and too young for orchestras playing “Moonlight Serenade.”

My wife and I like good restaurants. The trendy ones of today are noisy. Let me put it another way. The saloons in my day were as quiet as a monastery compared to these hip eateries.

I am old-fashioned. I like to actually hear what my dining partner has to say. You have to take a course in sign language to converse in one of these food halls. Apparently, someone somewhere decided that there wasn’t enough noise, so many of them play techno music while you dine. Is there something about techno that is supposed to make the beef short ribs taste better?

As far as movies, once they close down the Ritz complex, will be the last time I ever go to the movies. Let me put it another way. My tastes are somewhere between “Rashomon” and “Dinner For Schmucks.” Come to think of it, they ought to call the next noise-polluted restaurant “Dinner for Schmucks.” I am tired of mainstream movies.

I don’t care if Bruce Willis or Will Smith saves the world again. I don’t care to see the latest sequel to another clever cartoon. I am frankly tired of buddy movies because these people would never be buddies of mine. I long for the days of an elegant theater like the Mastbaum on Market Street instead of these multiplex horrors of today where the half the audience is texting or talking on their cell phones instead of watching the film. I don’t even care if James Cameron makes another over-hyped movie with blue-tinted aliens.

Yes, we whom you call “Q-tips” are frustrated, but you know where we exact our revenge? We vote. No one can out vote us. We show up in the rain at 7 a.m. to vote in a primary election! We vote because it is the only area where we matter anymore. Sadly, this has led to the Tea Party movement where the only real ideology is self-interest.

You can trace the rise of the Tea Party to the day they started playing techno in fine dining establishments.

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