A Modest Proposal™

I'm a big a fan of the iPhone. I'm certainly as avid (or obsessive) a user as the next white earbudded commuter I see on the train each morning when I actually look up from my tiny screen to take stock of my surroundings.

But I'm not a big fan of Apple's iPhone partner ATT.

Like most cell phone users I've changed carriers a few times trying to find the least painful compromise between price and performance. Finding a tolerable middle ground can prove steady work: cellular plans are everyone's go-to example of usury and excess while reception under the best of circumstances is left to the whim of location, how over-sold the carrier's voice and data capacity might be, sun spot activity, and how many hair dryers are running in the general vicinity.

By a generous margin, ATT consistently manages to be the least reliable cellular service I've ever used. Five bars, then one bar, then back to five. A few seconds of 3G, then down to EDGE, then back to 3G, then...you get the idea. Every other call fades to static like Marconi's first wireless and every third call is dropped altogether. It certainly comes in handy that I can do so many other things on my iPhone, like watch movies, listen to music and take pictures. It entertains and distracts me when I'm utterly unable to do the one thing I'd have thought would be essential: talk on the phone.

According to Apple, there are over 100,000 applications (and counting) available for the iPhone. But even in this embarrassment of riches there's one glaring omission: an app that can direct iPhone owners to the closest pay phone so they can actually make and complete a call.

The Joads Called. They Want Their Space Heater Back.

1977

Lenoir City, Tennessee

Objects of Desire

The Biomega Brooklyn is almost as far removed from practical as The Prisoner's penny farthing bicycle. I’ve never been inclined to let little things like practicality muddy my attraction to beautiful design so nevermind the likelihood that I'll be the oldest person on the planet putzing around on an über cool bmx-style bike. Anyhow. I'm especially fond of the matte finish, institutional colors, and mechanical simplicity (just one gear). While the Brooklyn has been featured on Biomega's website for several years, its actual availability (in the U.S. anyway) is, the last time I checked, still limited.

And Besides, My Helmet Doesn't Match My Suit*

I woke up particularly out of sorts today. I'm dreading Monday more than usual and I honestly don't have any reason to. Or no more reason than usual. 

* even though it does match the key colors of my masthead.

I'm Not Pointing Any FIngers

Good judgement comes from bad experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgement.

Will Rogers

More Nevil Shute and Less Flannery O'Connor, Please

I'm driving to Tennessee today with the usual mixed feelings fully in attendance. There are parts I'll enjoy greatly. Others, not so much so. 

Beginning

I haven't decided what all this is going to be about yet. Probably one of those any-road-will-take-me-there things. In whatever direction it heads, my interests in technology, design and how they intersect will be in tow. So it feels right that my first posts should be drawn from the ground zero of those interests.

In 1975 my parents gave me a Polaroid SX-70 Land Camera. Depending upon your vintage, you may remember it: a sleek, chrome and leather artifact that, when folded, looked like an oversized cigarette case. At the time of its introduction in 1972, it was nothing short of a revolution in optics, engineering, chemistry, microelectronics and product design. So, my earliest introduction to design and photography was visualized through the awkward viewfinder of a very peculiar and flawed little picture taking machine that had a preprogrammed mind of its own and produced interesting (if not always accurate, or conventional, or pleasing) images.

My love of the SX-70 was about more than pictures. It was at least as much about the fun of working around it's peculiarities and programming as it was the sensory experience of using it. Squeezing the shutter touched off this little symphony of whirring motors and pivoting mirrors. Even the film's odor, the emulsion and developers and opacifiers, was oddly pleasing. Commes des Garcons should clone the fragrance.

From the moment I loaded the first film pack, I spent an awfully lot of time reimagining my world through this camera.

That's where it all started for me.

Synchronize Your Watches, There's Still Time To Kill

1978

Winter evening, Knoxville, Tennessee

This is where it all started.