My new friend is the little blue circle. I have seen it before; don't get me wrong. But I see it all the time now. Maybe you don't, and for that, you should be grateful. There is always a great deal of promise and commitment about the "new and improved." I recently got a new computer, updated software, and plethoric commitments for enhanced efficiency, efficacy, and functionality. As I typed that, Alice's Restaurant Masacree (Arlo Guthrie, 1967) flooded my brain.
That song has a little portion (the whole song is about 19 minutes, Take that! Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeplin, 1971; Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen, 1975)). Those are not the longest rock songs, not even close. In fact, the longest rock songs dwarf even the Masacree by a lot. But I digress.
The Masacree line that I can't shake is "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay $50 and pick up the garbage." That is a classic line. Anyone who has never enjoyed the Masacree, well, condolences. See, with all my recently acquired tech "improvements," I likewise "didn't get nothing." The old hardware/software combination was more efficient, faster, and simpler. Typing that pulled Sammy Hagar into my head, I Can't Drive 55 (Geffen 1984):
"What used to take two hours now takes all day."
Oh, Sammy, I feel ya man! The pain of progress is acute, but I do have the little blue circle to keep me company. It has become a great comfort to me. I sit and stare at the little blue circle for minutes at a time. It is so peaceful, spinning, shining, mesmerizing. Sometimes, it is so peaceful I forget what I was doing before the little circle began to spin. That just costs more efficiency as I strive to remember after the machine eventually does what used to happen instantly.
Sir Francis Bacon said "Consistency is the foundation of virtue." On that basis, my computer is likely to be the most virtuous ever. It is overtly, persistently consistent. The little blue circle is relentless, ever-present, and utterly predictable.
I was recently on a call with Horace Middlemier* regarding a project we are working on. He asked a question, and I strove to respond by searching for an email (that function is now very slow and rarely pulls up the item searched for, but it is amazingly consistent in its uselessness). I apologized to Horace for delay and explained I was searching for the document manually. I reflexively uttered my mantra, "sorry, my new computer is slow but at least it is ineffective."
Feeling my frustration, Horace laughed in my face. That's Horace. Then, he expressed his commiseration. He explained that his entire law firm recently updated to new hardware, software, and processes. I wondered if the same charlatan that sold us a cloud sold him his. Remember, there is no cloud. When someone confidently assures you of the benefits of a "cloud," remember that just means someone else's computer server.
Horace said that the salespeople made many commitments about the benefits and advantages of his firm's "new and improved." At least so far, Horace claims, none of the "improved" has arrived, and he is saddled instead with only the "new" and "expensive." He has taken to documenting the shortcomings and failures so that he can have a meeting with the sales folks. Best of luck. Horace has as much chance as Milton Waddums has of getting his stapler back. Office Space (20th Century, 1999).
The commiseration felt good, and I returned the favor for a moment, laughing in Horace's face. Misery, they say, loves company.
So, what is the recourse? Well, Horace's effort at compiling various examples of new and disproved may help. The so-called experts may teach him some workarounds to deal with their new detriments and distractions. Mostly, he and I will simply be less efficient and less effective. We will work harder to accommodate some technician's or designer's folly. We will lament the destruction and detriment of the "new" and "improved," and we will soldier on.
It is astounding that business allows producers to dictate product features. It is more astounding that those who make purchasing decisions acquire dysfunctional and disruptive equipment and software in the name of efficiency. And, in the classic of American business comedy, those who have designed and purchased these frustrating new products will likely be promoted and lauded (Peter? Peter, is that you?).
It all makes me want to contact Arlo Guthrie about writing a song about folly, disconnect, and disregard. But he is likely above all that protest and good nature now. It would, nonetheless, make for a great song. My little blue circle just stopped spinning on my email, let me go move another message for few minutes. I should be able to have my morning's messages cleared out by noon.