journal of a writing man

I gave it a good try but fail to see the point of it in my life, at this time.  So I’ve removed myself from the Facebook-iverse.

This is not a reflection on any of my friends.

Graham, on his way to the Muse concert at this moment, asked me to try to record the Radio One broadcast this evening when it’s streamed online from the BBC.  ”You’ll need to download an audio thing,” he said.  ”I’ll try,” I said, full of fear, uncertainty and doubt. “But I’m making no promises.  I know nothing about mp3s, iPods and such.”

I had no idea just how close to zero that nothing is.  I’ve googled, and attempted a download, and come up with nothing that makes any sense to me at all.  I just don’t understand the jargon.  I think he’ll have to tap his online contacts in the Muse-iverse to scrounge a copy.

Hey ho.  I often use that “I’m too old for this sh*t” line but I never really expected that it would come true.

Because it has.  I’m defeated, and shall have to confess it.  I don’t like this feeling, not at all.

Now if I still had my reel-to-reel Ferrograph there’d be no problem at all.

Vintage Ferrograph tape recorder

Those were the days, eh?

So I’m going to give in, sit and look out of the window, and wait for my daily diuretic to run its course before going shopping for provisions.  That is something for which I am most definitely not too old.

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remembering old machines
with glowing valves and rheostats
a true Turing test

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