Luddites aren't just crotchety old geezers

One of the dangers in /using/ computers is that people may think you /like/ computers. Any vestige of liking them disappeared for me when Apple introduced their new line of laptops and decided not to include firewire ports, thereby making them totally incapable of importing digital video from mini DV tapes. The Apple folks seem to think that since newer cameras connect thru USB ports, there is no need to maintain the previous standard. Of course, these newer cameras record video in a different format and at much lower quality than the firewire models. In a cynical way this makes sense – Apple figures that it can save a few dollars on the computer, affect a small portion of their consumers who use mini DV, and offend only a percentage of those, most of whom they figure will get over it or buy the upgraded model Mac laptop (for 800 dollars more) that still has the firewire port. Those not offended by the removal of this port call it progress; firewire is an old technology that is much less common than USB. I don’t particularly care for that argument, and I am resistant to change. For the worse. Here I feel like a luddite, insisting the past is better as I feel the overwhelming push of a present that surrounds me and I can in no way stop.

Only, here, the old thing clearly is better.

I also feel nerdy knowing all the things I do about firewire connections – transfer speed, compatibility, reasons for their superiority over USB, why digital video is meant to work with it, etc. – and this is where the danger of appearing to be an enthusiast rears. Consider a comparison with baseball statistics and automotive details. Think about people talking about cars, and what image do you conjure? Is it men in work clothes but at their leisure, arguing Chevy vs. Ford vs. Chrysler trucks, or talking racing and modifications and after-market accessories? Boring things out, adding turbo chargers, cleaning and polish and chroming of parts you haven’t heard of? Or the more sober comparison of similar figures by cautious consumers looking for a family sedan? See, unlike baseball statistics, some of these things have value. I sometimes feel like a car dude, bragging up my machine, except it’s a computer, the speed measured in megahertz and the size measured in gigs.

Same with computer stuff, I like to think. I don’t want to be the guy who buys a computer and a camera and runs home to find they don’t match up. And, in this example, my equipment doesn’t match up with the new computer I wanted to get. So, this I suppose makes me a luddite, despite the superior quality of the older product being replaced. Which, I suppose, is exactly what the weavers thought in 1811 when the idea of breaking the looms, that promised increased production and reduced labor, in order to protect the livelihood of hand craftspeople occurred to them.
But this isn’t my rub. I spend lots of my day in front of a computer – at home, at work in three different rooms, at my other job teaching teachers how to use computers, my laptop at the coffee shop – and it’s implicated in virtually everything I do to maintain my livelihood. I recognize the computer’s power as a tool, but am an abysmal typist. I understand computers – I took college computer programming classes while I was still in high school – and have a good memory for technical details. I work in tech support. But I don’t like it.

My friend kept himself from laughing at me Wednesday night when I told him what classes I was taking next term. One of them is in bookbinding. By hand, with needles and string and arcane apparatus. I may take papermaking in the fall – will, if I have time. I would rather have my hands on materials. Sawdust. Sandpaper. Stain. Shellac. I like that tactile feel, so unlike the clicking of the keys.

I wonder if there’s a market for handmade paper.