The Oppenheimer Report 3/9/10

I begin my report today with a rant about transformers. Those are the little, or not so little black boxes attached to many of the power supplies, which we get with just about every electrical appliance we purchase these days. I have about twenty of them lying about our house, and I have no idea which one goes with what device. Some are likely for devices which I have long since discarded. Whenever I do need one it always seems to be the wrong voltage. I try to label them, but because most of them are black, I have to tape a label to them, and tape comes off. A couple of years before he died, I bought Dad one of those digital picture frames, which gives the viewer a slide show of selected photographs, and he almost immediately misplaced the power supply. Of course it required some bizarre fractional voltage, not readily available in most stores. I finally found one that would work - it was one of those multiple voltage jobs - and I plugged it into the frame. It worked, and everything was fine until someone fooled with it and changed the voltage setting, thereby blowing out the screen on the picture frame. At least that’s what I think happened. Dad never really liked the thing anyhow, but I couldn’t return the frame, because now I’d broken it due to my own carelessness. It seems as if I have a lot of little black cords with USB like ends on them that connect to cameras, GPS devices, computers, television sets, etc. Again, I’ve forgotten what they all do, and each one has a different end on it, completely incompatible with any device other than the one for which it was intended. Actually, that is a problem with a lot of the hi tech stuff today. Once again, it’s technology-1, Jamie - 0. Life has simply become too complicated for me, and the more fogey-ized I become, the more I long for the days when a television set did not come with a set of instructions the size of a phone book.




Yes, I watched the Oscars last night, and was surprised to see that James Cameron and his obscenely expensive (and profitable) film “Avatar” did not run away with the show. In fact, what appear to be good stories did, and kudos to the Academy for recognizing them and the writers and film makers who tell them. Out of character for me, I saw a first run movie last week while I was in Toronto. I haven’t been to a current movie screening in perhaps six years, but with my last five hundred dollar purchase at Shoppers Humungous Drug Warehouse, I was given two, count em, two, complementary tickets to any movie showing at a Cineplex theatre, and there just happens to be one of those in our apartment building. Because the comp tickets expire in a few months, I decided I should see something soon and I caught “Crazy Heart” with Jeff Bridges. I can see why he won the award for best male actor; he was very good. As much as the next human rutabaga, I like the brainless entertainment provided by a movie reliant on dazzling special effects, but it was also refreshing to see a movie that simply tells a good story well. I guess I also related to the subject matter: it’s about a washed up songwriter. Of course, I’d have had to have achieved some success as a songwriter to become washed up, but that’s beside the point. Brief aside: in his acceptance speech, Bridges spoke of his acting family and specifically about his father Lloyd. He talked about being coached by his dad to do an episode of the T.V. program “Sea Hunt” when he was a boy. I am old enough to remember “Sea Hunt” and it was pretty silly show, so naturally I watched it every week. In fact, I’d probably watch it if it were still on. In almost every episode, Lloyd Bridges would end up in an underwater struggle with some bad guy who would inevitably try to kill him by disabling the oxygen supply on his scuba tank. Those were the old tanks with two hoses coming out of the breathing regulator. What was funny was that the bad guys always cut the exhaust hose, which causes a lot of bubbles but won’t stop the diver from breathing. Back in the Sixties, you could get away with little tricks like that. Anyhow, I’m glad Jeff Bridges won for his performance as Bad Blake. As I said earlier, I can’t remember the last time I saw an Oscar winning performance at the time it came out in the movie theatres. The other big winner at this year’s Academy Awards was “The Hurt Locker”. I’ll probably get around to seeing that one in two or three years.

I also want to see “Precious” and “District 9”.



What else. The Leafs still suck big time, although they did squeak out a win against their dreaded rivals Ottawa last week. Final note for anyone who might have been trying to “Face” or “Space” me on the internet, or to send me a photo by email. We have until very recently been on dial-up here at Jasper Bark Lodge. It was, to say the least, unacceptable. We just got a Bell MiFi unit, which is essentially “high speed” internet service through a cell phone, and that has presented us with a whole new set of technological problems … but at least it’s wireless! Once again I embrace the Great Satan of technology. Depending on which way the wind blows, and whether or not the gods of good cell reception are smiling down on Katrine at any given moment, we do or do not have faster internet service. Be careful everyone, I think I’m losing it; I might soon be channeling with fellow technology hater Ted Kaczynski.
 
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED