Monday, March 08, 2010

Stuck in a mudhole with a stale dog biscuit for company



Ranging far to the east one day and to the south the next, my car and I are getting to know another better once again. The commuter's life, at least in my case, involves much more radio than usual (NPR, alt. rock, sports) and immediately connects me with a certain segment of society -- mainly employed, living a 9-5 work schedule, and trying to balance a lot of things.

The radio I hear tends to be "drive time" programming, pitched exactly for this demographic, which also happens to be the peak radio audience on any given weekday -- and therefore the most lucrative (thus all the ads.)

Media consumption over the course of my lifetime and career has evolved so rapidly and proliferated so greatly that in today's America there appears to be much more media than there is a critical mass to consume it.

Or maybe that's just my impression.

But millions of people still tune into prime time television, and millions more still read newspapers and magazines.

Meanwhile, the media habits of the young are not conforming to set programming schedules. From social media to texting to Tivo to YouTube and streaming movies over game consoles, there is a generational divide greater than the Grand Canyon.

Overall, media messages have become so pervasive that most of us, even if acutely self-aware, probably re-channel ideas far more often than create our own. (Here, I have to quote cliches like "there are no new ideas" just to cover my bases, but you know what I mean.)

I'll cop to being a synthesizer of ideas myself; rarely do I come up with such an innovative concept as to qualify for an intellectual patent, even if there were such a thing available.

Rather, I absorb inputs and spew out my own conclusions, often joining disparate data into some weird new pattern that may appeal only to someone as odd as I am -- or so I think until I hear from people I meet here or elsewhere online. (What surprises, sometimes, is that there are so many of us.)

In that context, it increasingly seems like the trappings around content have become more important than the stories themselves. Maybe it's not fair to point to events like the Oscars or the Super Bowl, but the designer gowns of stars or the ads during commercial breaks command more enduring attention from a large segment of the media industry (and presumably the audience) than do the awards or the games.

I overheard one breathless analyst dismissing the film awards themselves as insignificant but the "look" of certain actresses something we'd be remembering for years.

Count me clueless on that one. I wouldn't be able to tell you what most actresses wore last night 14 days from now, let alone a year or more. I did get the impression that J-Lo's dress could have easily gotten up and walked away without her, but beyond that I noticed little and cared less.

Call me a typical male, if that helps. But the content of "The Hurt Locker," which I've not yet seen, as well as certain other films, is likely to have a better shot at sticking with me in the years to come than anyone's outfit, no matter how much yapping occurs online or on TV.

For a lifelong journalist to admit this may seem strange but I've come to despise mass media. Come to think of it, maybe it is not so strange in that I've devoted so much effort to trying to create substantive articles, books, documentaries, and blog posts that the mindlessness of what surrounds us in our McLuhanistic culture quite naturally is offensive to someone like me.

I cannot even pretend to enjoy it. It's boring, alienating and makes me feel worse than being stuck in a mudhole with a stale dog biscuit for company.

So I must have missed the memo somewhere along the line to become celebrity-focused, worship the latest guy gadgets, and celebrate the accomplishments of rich asses like Donald Trump.

Because absolutely none of this holds my attention for even a nano-second. Writing this post tonight is, in fact, a kind of therapy for me. The radio and TV is off; I am not checking email or browsing the web.

No other media is reaching me. It's just the wish of having a conversation with you, dear visitor, that heals me, so thank you for stopping by...

-30-

1 comment:

Anjuli said...

thank you for this refreshing piece. I could not agree more- I think less media is a good thing...not that I want to 'throw the baby out with the bathwater'- however, there are merits to 'less is best.' (how is that for a few cliches.)

I just wrote a comment which was probably almost as long as your post- realized it was too long and deleted it- ha ha! I guess you've hit on a soap box of mine. :)