THERE’S NOTHING more ridiculous than Mossback standing in Fry’s Electronics in Renton, a Luddite in the temple of technology. Indeed, one definition of “mossback” is someone deeply set in his ways. I’ll say one thing for the place: It’s better than that hideous circus that sets up its tents in Renton every summer. There, citizens are exposed to a plague worse than mad cow: mimes and Euro-clowns.
Geeks are much more tolerable. Fry’s is a vast Thunderdome of technologya barn big enough for Boeing filled with everything a techie might want, from computer parts to junk food. This year, I needed to upgrade. My home computer was fried. For months I have been unable to receive spam and hate e-mail at home. What’s a columnist to do?
With some reluctance, I headed out to get a new system while my college-aged sonmy living, breathing IS department was home for the holidays and could get me all set up. I don’t know what people without children do. You must breed to get tech help at home. Without my son, I never would have found the computer assembled in my home office, ready to go, only an hour or so after getting home. All I needed to do to start the thing was push a button a chimp couldn’t have missed (once I found it).
My son no longer gets impatient with my technological ignorance. He leads me through the process slowly and kindly, as one would a mentally handicapped child. He tells me from time to time that my confusion over technology is a mental block. That’s just what my parents told me about arithmetic. Nevertheless, though Bill Gates and I had the same math and physics teachers, and I was tutored by upper classmen on the side, I was lucky to receive a charity “D” in algebraeven after being sent back two grades. Gates and I anchored opposite ends of the Lakeside School bell curve. I’ll let you guess which ends.
I HAVE A SIMILAR difficulty with gadgets. Having come from a long line of engineers, surgeons, and craftsmen, it seems odd that I missed the “gear” gene. My grandfather, a large Norwegian engineer, invented heavy logging equipment and winches for use on ships. His factory stood for years on Harbor Island, a monument to man’s ingenuity with machines.
Whether it’s heredity or phobia, I can’t say. But I’m a tech klutz and deeply suspicious of new technology. The only aptitude I’ve ever shown for technology is a knack for breaking it. Nevertheless, life without some tools and toys is untenable, even for the simpleminded.
For me, simply stepping into Fry’s was traumatic. I found the presence of all that merchandise overwhelming. Then there’s the feeling of high-tech helplessness and inadequacy. To top it off, they were playing over the loudspeakersI’m not kidding”It’s a Small World,” Satan’s anthem from that hateful Disney ride that celebrates globalization. Places like this make Bellevue Square seem quaint, old-fashioned, civilized. Yet these big-box retailers work: I was being softened up for a consumer experience, and I bought like a crazy bastard.
It wasn’t the first time this season I succumbed. I also visited Costco for the first time in 20 years at Christmas. I was on another tech mission, escorted by a friend who loves electronics so much he couldn’t wait to go shopping with me. I was looking for my first DVD player and bought one. I also gave in to that special kind of Costco consumerism that convinces you life is impossible without also buying six hogsheads of Aplets & Cotlets and a lifetime supply of Kleenex. I showed restraint, however. I only spent double what I intended.
I now see why Costco does so well, even in the shadow of Wal-Mart. Costco has the street appeal of legalized larceny: You feel like you’re in New York, buying stuff that fell off the truck at JFK. Who could resist?
BUT I ALSO FELT palpably the tension between the personal and the political. Steals at Costco? Cheap stuff at Fry’s? Yes, please, but lord knows what sweatshop it’s made in to get a price like that. Should I worry about cost or context? In buy mode, you take whatever cost savings you can get and worry about context later (like when writing a column).
Living in this consumer culture, it’s hard not to feel split. Was it like this for Thomas Jefferson, who promoted freedom while sleeping with his slaves? I don’t like sweatshops, outsourcing, or the gurgling of American jobs draining away. But I don’t want to pay a lot for stuff, either. I told myself that my spending spree was helping the economy and defying terrorism, which is good, right?
On the other hand, I was also painfully aware that every piece of merchandise I bought was probably bringing George W. Bush a step closer to re-election. I rationalized my guilt away by promising to do what I could to use my savings and new technology to see him defeated. That way, I could have cool stuff and a cleanish conscience.
So, my holiday shopping made me feel like I’d just returned from Las Vegas: exhilarated and dirty.
There are worse ways to start the new year.
