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Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
"Ubiquitous Media…"
I like the sound of that…"ubiquitous media." In fact, maybe I'll use that as the name of my next company. Ubiquitous. An adjective. Pronounced \yü-ˈbi-kwə-təs\. According to Merriam's dictionary, a word that began its use in 1830 to mean "existing or being everywhere at the same time; constantly encountered; widespread."
Ad Age just told me that "teens, tweens and adults" are "consuming ubiquitous media." Funny. I always considered that we consumed things like food, candy, beverages, booze. But now our tweens are consuming ubiquitous media. And at rates and levels never before imagined. Should we be alarmed?
They are consuming phones, tvs, computers, remotes. Content is bombarding their little brains at the speed of light. The speed of sound. The speed of thought. They are consuming with a fervor never before known. Chomping down content, rapidly.
Meanwhile, the virtual size of media is rapidly diminishing. We can carry around movies in our pockets. We can carry on conversations with dozens of people without ever speaking to them. Our children refer to having "talked" to someone they've never met after texting, IMing, tweeting, mailing or pinging. Not sure where all this ubiquity leads us.
Are we better off? More informed? Quicker? Stealthier? Or simply more aware of our ADD tendencies, inadequacies? Desires?
Feed me. Look at me. Try me. Do something with me. That's the cry of ubiquitous media.
Me? I think I'll go consume a sandwich.
Ad Age just told me that "teens, tweens and adults" are "consuming ubiquitous media." Funny. I always considered that we consumed things like food, candy, beverages, booze. But now our tweens are consuming ubiquitous media. And at rates and levels never before imagined. Should we be alarmed?
They are consuming phones, tvs, computers, remotes. Content is bombarding their little brains at the speed of light. The speed of sound. The speed of thought. They are consuming with a fervor never before known. Chomping down content, rapidly.
Meanwhile, the virtual size of media is rapidly diminishing. We can carry around movies in our pockets. We can carry on conversations with dozens of people without ever speaking to them. Our children refer to having "talked" to someone they've never met after texting, IMing, tweeting, mailing or pinging. Not sure where all this ubiquity leads us.
Are we better off? More informed? Quicker? Stealthier? Or simply more aware of our ADD tendencies, inadequacies? Desires?
Feed me. Look at me. Try me. Do something with me. That's the cry of ubiquitous media.
Me? I think I'll go consume a sandwich.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
The Old World Teaching New Things...
I've just discovered something that makes me think that being an "Urban Nomad" is actually in my blood. Bukovina, the county in Romania from where my grandfather's family hailed, was actually known as the most progressive, dynamic, forward-thinking and entrepreneurial spot for Jews in the Austro-Hungarian empire during the 1800s. I had no idea. But during a Google search this week, I found the "History of Jews in Bukowina" by Dr. NM Gelber and it's been a real eye-opener.
Being Jewish was not a religious issue, as many people think nowadays, but one of race. Jews were treated like any other minority. Not great, but not without respect. It was not until the first world war that the Jews of Bukovina began to have problems of race and ethnicity there. So the assumption that we've always made that most families came to the US to avoid religious persecution is not really accurate. During that time, in Bukovina, Jews were studying in universities, building hospitals, practicing law, medicine and prospering along with Christians and non-believers.
In 1849, the Autonomous Duchy of Bukovina was founded and, with all liberality, provided that Jews be granted full and equal rights of other citizens under the Autro-Hungarian monarchy. It was one of the 11 "Crown-Lands" under Emperor Franz Josef. The Jews there loved their Kaiser. They loved those Hapsburgs. And the Crown loved them as much as they did their other minorities-- the Magyars, Romanians, Ruthenes, Germans among them. Of the 516 seats in the Parliament at the time, Bukovina with 300,098 inhabitants was allocated 14 seats. These 14 seats were distributed on a population basis as follows:
So the outpouring from Bukovina of so many Jewish families before World War I may really have been stirred by purely economic and social reasons than anything having to do with religion. It may have been more that my own particular family had not done as well over there as, say, the man who founded the "Blue-White" games which later became known as the international Maccabi games or Mr. Isak Rubinstein who was elected to the chamber of commerce for the 1873 to 1879 term left the leadership of the community and became hospital director, in which position, he served until his death in 1878.
When I discovered these and many other facts about Bukovina, it gave me a completely different perspective on my own nomadic inclinations. It reminded me of why, in 1991, I decided that New York was no longer a place for a single woman, who was a writer, producer who was not-gainfully employed. I was not making the money my friends were on Wall Street or prospering the way some others were during the previous Reagan years. For those of us in that category, the world beyond New York was where opportunity lay.
I jumped on the "think global, act local" bandwagon with a fervor that has propelled me to this very day, some twenty years later, much like my ancestors from Bukovina. I know my Grandfather is smiling down on me. I think there are many more insights he's sending my way...
Being Jewish was not a religious issue, as many people think nowadays, but one of race. Jews were treated like any other minority. Not great, but not without respect. It was not until the first world war that the Jews of Bukovina began to have problems of race and ethnicity there. So the assumption that we've always made that most families came to the US to avoid religious persecution is not really accurate. During that time, in Bukovina, Jews were studying in universities, building hospitals, practicing law, medicine and prospering along with Christians and non-believers.
In 1849, the Autonomous Duchy of Bukovina was founded and, with all liberality, provided that Jews be granted full and equal rights of other citizens under the Autro-Hungarian monarchy. It was one of the 11 "Crown-Lands" under Emperor Franz Josef. The Jews there loved their Kaiser. They loved those Hapsburgs. And the Crown loved them as much as they did their other minorities-- the Magyars, Romanians, Ruthenes, Germans among them. Of the 516 seats in the Parliament at the time, Bukovina with 300,098 inhabitants was allocated 14 seats. These 14 seats were distributed on a population basis as follows:
| 305,110 Ruthenes | 5 seats |
| 273,254 Romanians | 5 seats |
| 102,900 Jews | 2 seats |
| 65,951 Germans | 2 Seats |
So the outpouring from Bukovina of so many Jewish families before World War I may really have been stirred by purely economic and social reasons than anything having to do with religion. It may have been more that my own particular family had not done as well over there as, say, the man who founded the "Blue-White" games which later became known as the international Maccabi games or Mr. Isak Rubinstein who was elected to the chamber of commerce for the 1873 to 1879 term left the leadership of the community and became hospital director, in which position, he served until his death in 1878.
When I discovered these and many other facts about Bukovina, it gave me a completely different perspective on my own nomadic inclinations. It reminded me of why, in 1991, I decided that New York was no longer a place for a single woman, who was a writer, producer who was not-gainfully employed. I was not making the money my friends were on Wall Street or prospering the way some others were during the previous Reagan years. For those of us in that category, the world beyond New York was where opportunity lay.
I jumped on the "think global, act local" bandwagon with a fervor that has propelled me to this very day, some twenty years later, much like my ancestors from Bukovina. I know my Grandfather is smiling down on me. I think there are many more insights he's sending my way...
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Now Back to Intelligent-Classy-Well-Educated Ladies...
Now back to Intelligent-classy-well-educated-women-who-say-Fck-a-lot
I joined a Facebook group called "Intelligent, classy, well-educated women who say "F*ck" a lot." Fuckin' A right, I say! F-U-C-K. Go on, now. Say it. It's been a particular favorite of mine, for, well I just can't count the years. You know those Proustian surveys? The one Vanity Fair magazine uses at the end of each issue? The one James Lipton loves to use, hoping someone will say "fuck" as he smirks and asks "Now beautiful, talented Oscar winner Meryl Streep, what's your favorite curse word?" on Bravo's Inside the Actor's Studio?
I've always thought that, when asked, I would jauntily answer "fuck." It feels good coming out of my mouth. Powerful. Strong. Deliberate. Empowering. "I'm in control here, baby."
When I got pregnant and was interviewing my then-current Ob-Gyn to see whether she would be a good partner in weathering the coming storm, one of the first questions I asked her was "Do you mind if I scream FUCK lot at the birth of my child?" She said she minded. Seriously. In fact she told me that she could understand screams at giving birth, but to try to keep the unpleasantries to a minimum. Huh?? I quickly found another Ob-Gyn to deliver my precious cargo. He got the job when he told me he couldn't care if I fucked Jesus Christ on the cross. His job was to deliver a healthy infant to a happy Mom. Fuck or no fuck. He didn't give a flying fuck what came out of my mouth in the process.
I once had a meltdown in front of the building manager of my previous Coop. His last name was Sanchez. He told me my "boyfriend" at the time could not have a parking space, unless he became my "Mr." I told him he had moved in and we were scheduled to become "Mr. and Mrs." in six months, which was the truth. "Well until then, no parking spot." "But there are, like, 200 spots with no cars in them!" This was Miami Beach where most of the owners were "Snowbirds" and were still away. "It's the rule, Miss." "Fuck you Mr. Sanchez!" I screamed. "Fuck you and the fucking rules. You are a fucking moron Mr. Sanchez. Do you hear me??? A fucking moron, idiota, boba!! Fuck you!" Needless to say he closed the door on me. My fiance, a quiet, gentle, European man who had never heard a woman scream that way, became very flustered. He was not yet acquainted with the cleansing benefits of yelling the f-word. We now call that kind of ballistic outrage "pulling a Sanchez."
If you're on Facebook, I encourage you to join us. And if you don't, well…fuck you.
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