You're looking at the happy new owner of a Model ITUT-201SVR USB Turntable.Well, you're not really looking at me; I don't have one of those Skype devices that would allow you to look in on me sitting here, typing and sipping iced tea like some sort of I don't know what. But with this device, I can take the approximately 12,000 record albums and 45s that linger even now in my basement, and put them on my computer as mp3s, the better to stock my iPod with more old music. And even though most of those records have bold black print bearing various forms of the warning RADIO STATION COPY - - NOT FOR SALE, they still play just the same as if I had plunked down money at KMart, Murphy's Mart or Woolworths to buy the record, except I didn't have the money to buy records, since I was working at radio stations. I guess heisting promo copies of Hank Snow albums was all part of the pay package after all!
But I do have to give a big round of boo to the tech writers who complied the manual for this device. I did finally get it to work, and solved the many problems that came with it, after several hours of false starts and yelps. But I used the old tried and true system of trying things that are usually true, feeling my way around, because the writers of the handbook assume that all of us to whom Santa delivered this little box o' joy have advanced degrees in audio engineering and computer programming, or so it would seem.
Remember when everyone sort of shook their heads about the geeks and nerds in high school? The brainiacs from the math club - the ones who had tiny slide rules for ties - are now your accountants and tax attorneys. The dudes from the biology club are your physicians, probing you every which - a - way and putting you on diets that Bobby Sands would have envied. The guys who did well in auto shop are now tuning your Toyota, the model rocketeers are sending lunar probes to find water on Mars, and the metal shop guys are now plumbers whom you call when you find water on your bathroom floor. And all these Bill Gateses are writing manuals with a slightly mocking tone.
I just put Steve Lawrence on my iPod singing "A Room Without Windows." Somebody from the Future Carpenters Club is going to call me about installing some Anderson Windowalls for $3600 each. I can't hear anything else.