Press to Download Your Selection

Indeed, the world has changed, often for the better. An example: wireless gadgets that allow us to dip our toes into the vast world of the virtual written word. For Christmas, my beloved gave me a Kindle Fire. A year ago, I would have thought that would have four wheels, and been purchased from the auto plaza bearing the same name in Court House.
Ones who are wise to the ways of the world would have fully understood, even then, but I’m slow to catch on to new technology. I knew the County Library had e-books, but I thought in order to read them, one had to possess a doctoral degree in engineering from M.I.T. Thanks to that little Kindle, I’ve read more books this year than I have, probably in a whole year or two before.
It’s a simple example how we are getting our information. Reading news on a telephone still seems a bit far-fetched to me, but millions do so daily, and think nothing of it.
Those who have read this column over the decades well know I’m a devoted library supporter. I’m heartened that freeholders, on March 26, approved an architectural contract to begin repairs on that aging brick structure in Court House that so sorely needs fixing.
The other day, as I bicycled past the façade of the old library building, sandwiched between the Superior Court building and Historic Court House, I recollected the scary place that was for me as a lad. It was, well, like your grandmothers attic that reached floor to ceiling, with volumes upon volumes that, I thought, were probably placed there by Pilgrims who had nowhere else to store them.
Oh, the librarians were great, even overly protective of what young boys could check out. Should a selection be deemed “age inappropriate” they refused to let it go unless there was a note from mom or dad (ugh!)? If that happened today, I suppose the ACLU would swoop down upon the good ladies like a vulture on a pigeon. But that’s the way it was, and sometimes I’m thankful for those memories.
Still, there was a time when modernization was byword of the day; the old library was set for the scrap heap. The battle that ensued, championed by, I believe (but won’t bet the farm on it) the Court House Neighborhood Association. Cooler heads prevailed when it was noted that the old building was a gem, at least the front part, and ought to be preserved for antiquity.
So, architects grabbed their T-squares (yeah, imagine that today with CAD or computer assisted design programs). When the dust settled, what remained was that wonderful old façade with its pillars and symbols. Take a look next time you pass by the place. You won’t see anything else like it in this whole county.
Fast forward to today. The library is much more user friendly, both physically and virtually. Those, like me, who find themselves swerving over to that “Large Print Edition” section more frequently, can rejoice with a Kindle or iPad and similar pieces of equipment. The type can be made large with a host of other adjustments possible to make reading easier and more enjoyable.
There are ancient digital editions available that will take the reader inside the mind of a Canadian soldier on the World War I front line; take you across the border in the War of 1812 where the Americans were “the enemy” and let you have your fill of Walt Whitman and Rudyard Kipling.
Most of those vintage books are way out of date, some published in the last 1800s or early 1900s. That’s why I find them so fascinating, because they take me where I never could possibly have gone, including into battles of the Civil War with an average foot soldier.
If you get tired or reading, as I sometimes do, those little devices have the capability to read the text aloud, so you can gaze out the window and still follow the story.
Such small things also enable users to read, with ease, news from the BBC, CBC, or any newspaper that is available. Being a thrifty (some would call me a plain cheapskate) soul, there is no need to pay for much of the information. If you desire to subscribe to virtually any publication in the world, it’s available for about $10 a month.
I subscribe to only one, Barron’s, and enjoy it, but sometimes think I am hastening the demise of someone’s job, since I read it on line, not in print. But that is the way of the world. Chances are good you might even be reading this column digitally, on one of those portable devices or at a regular computer.
Thank goodness for automatic shut offs, too. I’m guilty of reading late at night sometimes, and more than once, I begin with an open page, only to awaken to a black screen.
Reporter Jack Fichter, ever one to monitor future trends, spotted a recent story that predicted the demise of car radios, since the next generation does not listen to radio, and rather buys the music it likes and listens to it while driving. Why bother with a radio? Say the car makers. Give them what they want, and they’ll buy it.
For my generation, the in thing was a transistor radio. On those tiny devices we listened to the music that shaped our age, most on AM radio alone. Then, as that new-fangled FM came along, we found it had better sound, not so scratchy and faded in and out. Soon, AM stations began struggling to remain alive, delivering traffic reports to commuters and then all-news, since some couldn’t stand the music that would otherwise affect their ears.
It’s a great time to be alive, as long as you have power and connectivity. If they drop out, you’re sunk. Grab a book and pass the time by candlelight.