The day we presented our Best of The Beat Business Awards, on January 20th, I was at my desk working like a madwoman to try to finish up guests lists, etc. I rely on my computer more than most; it’s organized to the hilt. Imagine my chagrin when I tried to send an email and my address book—which has about 1400 entries—was empty. After a few frantic moments of noodling around, I figured I had contracted a computer virus of some kind, and called our ever-reliable IT guy, who rushed over to pick up my computer to see if he could get rid of the bug.
Early morning, next day, IT calls to let me know that my computer has given up the ghost. It has died of old age (and probable overuse). If this has never happened to you, trust me, you almost feel as though a relative has died, and you go through all of the stages of grief: denial (“We can still get the files!”); anger (“Oh shit, why did this haven to happen to me…NOW?”); bargaining (“If we can just get my contact file back, I’ll never, ever let it happen again.”); depression (“OMG, WTF am I gonna do?”); and acceptance (“OK, I’ll get back what I can and we’ll go from there.”).
Luckily, I had backup online, something I’d advise everyone to have. It’s cheap, and it works pretty well. But I did find out that the backup system I use doesn’t restore “.exe” files—those are the programs that make your computer actually work, like Word, Excel, Outlook, Photoshop, etc. So you have to keep those CDs in a safe place because you may never get them back.
Today is March 24 and I’m still struggling with my computer. Yes, I had to get a new one. Yes, I backed up my files. Now I’m having to motivate through many new ways of doing things, and dammit, it’s slowing me down. Plus, I’m having to look for a lot of things that I took for granted, like photos, fonts, templates and such.
That got me to thinking: almost no one uses photographic film anymore. We have a huge file cabinet in the office that’s full of old photographs, some of which, I’m sure, may be irreplaceable. Our newer photographic records are a lot more vast because we can shoot away on a digital camera, but something’s been lost. We don’t seem to value lasting impressions as much as we used to, whether they’re photographs, or the written word in the form of books, magazines and newspapers. No one has the time to evaluate anything, since information is thrown at us at such as pace that we can not only not digest it all–we can’t fully appreciate anything. There’s just a taste, a fleeting look, a headline—and it’s gone. It’s getting to be a bigger and bigger problem as technology takes over our lives, and the lives of our kids.
I had the chance to visit with guitarist/singer/songwriter/teacher John Rankin yesterday. He’s got a new CD out, The Classic Jazz Trio, featuring Tom Fischer and Tommy Sancton, which I hope you will take the time to give it a listen. As John says, in New Orleans, we have a problem, if you can drink or dance to the music, then people tend not to listen. That’s the trouble with most jazz. You really have to take the time to listen to it. It’s not a hook or a headline. It’s music that delves deeper, makes you think and requires a bit of mental attention to appreciate.
One could almost say—given that jazz of all types requires some serious attention—that if we look at the way the world is evolving, and with the onslaught of 24/7 information clouding everyone’s head, that jazz as a music form could be seriously endangered. At least from the viewpoint of a younger audience.
But then I hear bands like the New Orleans Moonshiners, whose oeuvre is trad jazz with a twist of modern sensibility, made by young people who not only play jazz standards, but who are writing fresh new material. With the influx of talented and creative young people into New Orleans, I’m really kind of hopeful that jazz is not only alive and kicking, its future is going to be better and brighter, and more accessible than ever. Twitter be damned.
