VCR Users Suffer a Power Failure
Like millions of other Americans, I am not a slave to my technology. I’m too stupid to be. I am one of an estimated 30 million VCR illiterates. It’s a national tragedy.
Despite attempts to remedy the situation through simple code numbers, black boxes and cruise control, most people still cannot do more than play, rewind and eject. The most promising technology, one that lets you give verbal commands to your VCR, has not taken off in this country because so few Americans know how to say “Days of Our Lives” to this VCR that responds only to Japanese.
The same people who had brains enough not to buy a personal computer because they wouldn’t know what to do with it now own VCRs that lie fallow for the same reason. And the consequences are tragic.
Hours of “Married . . . With Children,” “Who’s the Boss?” and “Late Night With Rick Dees” are being lost to posterity--or at least until they are syndicated for rerun.
The American dream of programming your VCR to record shows a year from next Tuesday seems to be out of the reach of the average citizen. Although I have no hard data, I’m willing to guess that at least half of all VCR owners are still incapable of any tricks other than watching movies and simultaneous viewing/recording.
Some experts place the estimate even higher. “According to some reputable source, 80% of all VCR owners never use their timer,” says Jack Mingo, coiner of the term couch potato and minister of information and propaganda for the Couch Potato Party. “I think it’s deplorable that video manufacturers have made it so difficult,” Mingo says. “Watching TV should not require a college education.”
Toni Casal, an audio-visual production supervisor for a major corporation, is one of those who has been manipulating her VCR to no avail. She confesses that five years after purchasing their equipment, both she and her husband are incapable of operating it.
Today, the Casals still suffer from post-purchase depression. “We can’t program,” she says, “but we do have two remotes, and we sit there every night playing dueling remotes.”
This is a variation of the solitary remote practice of channel surfing.
Once my husband and I admitted we were powerless over our VCR illiteracy, we hid the machine in our bedroom. Another reason we wanted it out of the way was because we didn’t want to get caught in the act of taping certain shows. Especially in front of the children.
We regard unspontaneous TV viewing as an unnatural act. Watching “Get a Life” in a fit of passion is one thing. But planning ahead--this suggests deep moral weakness.
But Couch Padrino Mingo stresses the value of taping certain historic programs. “ ‘Gilligan’s Island’ is the show VCRs were made for,” he says. “Only by repeated viewing over the years will all the subtle meanings come out.”
Mingo warns that unless you store your cassettes in a lead case, just one nuclear bomb could electromagnetically zap your whole collection. He observes: “It is perhaps an unexpected side benefit of nuclear war.”
“Who’s the Boss?” collectors, take note!
