Steve Jobs made Star Trek a reality

At Apple, Steve was Jobs one.

In honor of the man and his inventions, I'm reposting a column I wrote a year ago about how Steve Jobs' inventions transformed a college instructor into Captain Kirk.


Set the iPhone for stun.

Today, I ran around from meeting to meeting in my orange, V-neck sweater, getting things done and saving the world with my iPhone, iPad, and a Jack Sack full of whatever I might need on today's season of 24.

I was feeling good about myself until I got a glimpse of my reflection in a window and thought: "Oh, crap: I'm Captain Kirk!"



We're surrounded by some serious sci-fi hardware. No, the cars don't fly, and the robot butler is MIA, but can you tell me that the iPhone isn't a Star Trek communicator? Or that the iPad isn't a tricorder?

Sadly, the orange V-neck sweater is still the orange, V-neck sweater. And I haven't sussed it out yet, but the receding hairline is either a tribute to William Shatner or a dying Tribble. The green-skinned girlfriend has yet to materialize. Boo!

The crazy thing is that I could time travel back to my technology-devoid CreComm days, haul out the iPhone, and completely blow people's minds:

"It's a portable computer. I use it to surf the net, play games, listen to music, make phone calls..." and that's where they would've burned me for witchcraft.

The future is now

Whenever someone tells me that he or she thinks the iPhone isn't all that - too expensive, or whatever - I like to remind them that not too long ago, any ONE of the 180 apps on my iPhone would've rocked their worlds.

(Take Shazam or SoundHound. Shazam recognizes whatever song happens to be playing and reveals the song, artist, and album from whence it came. SoundHound lets you hum a song - hum a song!!! - and it does the same.)

Don't beam me up, Scotty, because there's some pretty wicked crap down here on Earth.

It all reminds me of the time my friend's Dad couldn't find the fast-forward button on the TV remote control. After struggling for five minutes, he desperately asked, "How do you make this go to the future?"

We're livin' it, baby!

Updated tech requirements for first-year CreComm students

Message going out to next year's first-year CreComm students - in light of (we're told and hope) a new-and-improved RRC Wi-Fi system and global domination of tablet devices:

You are required to have ONE of the following mobile devices for your coursework:

1. iPod touch (8GB, 32GB, or 64GB)

Or

2. iPhone, BlackBerry, Android, or other mobile phone offering access to 3G wireless, apps, the Web, email, photography, and video.

Or

3. iPad, iPad 2, BlackBerry PlayBook, Motorola Xoom, or other tablet device offering access to Wi-Fi or 3G, apps, the Web, and email.

The iPod touch is the least-expensive option, good for mobile email, watching and taking video, playing music, reading news apps, mobile blogging, recording podcasts, tweeting, monitoring RSS feeds (like your classmates’ blogs), and understanding the app landscape.

With the iPod touch and Wi-Fi tablet devices, you require no contract with a service provider, as you can use Red River College’s Wi-Fi network for free.

Smartphones and 3G-enabled tablets allow you to do the same, in addition to having access to a 3G network wherever you are and – in most cases – make phone calls. However, they also require 3G cell service bought through a 3G service provider, which can be costly.

If you have any questions about these devices, we will be happy to answer them at registration on Monday, Aug. 29 at 11 a.m. in P107. You will be required to have these devices by the second week in September.

David Adjey: done like dinner

Let us pray - that this ends soon.

Put a fork in his arse and turn him over - he's done.

I can only be talking about the Food Network's David Adjey, who last night gave a ballroomful of Winnipeggers a master class in how not to win over a crowd.

It was ugly.

Billed an evening with David Adjey, the star of Restaurant Makeover and The Opener gave the crowd at the Fort Garry Hotel every cent's worth of their $30 ticket (or $1,500 for a corporate table) - in discomfort and embarrassment, that is.

Things started off well enough - Adjey entered the ballroom to the strains of his show's theme song, wearing a chef's jacket, pants (thank the Lord), and one of those head-mics favored by Madonna and motivational speakers everywhere, including my favorite: Tom Cruise in Magnolia.

Looking very much like Toronto's answer to Gary Busey, he served us our appetizer - three minutes of baby-back ribbing about our weather compared to Edmonton's - followed by the main course: an "I'm winging it and doing a bad job" descent into madness, bad judgment, desperation and flopsweat.

Having performed stand-up for the better part of a dozen years, I recognized the scenario well: you lose the crowd, try to make it better, and push so hard, you make it much, much worse. Think: Michael Richards and his famous onstage meltdown.

After only one or two minutes of Adjey's nonsensical ramblings, the crowd stopped paying attention and started texting, tweeting, and murmuring.

Sample murmur: "He's losing them."

Who are you - who who who who?

Adjey was ill-prepared to speak, but his big mistake was to break the first rule of communicating: know your audience.

As it was, it seemed that Adjey might have landed at the event in a flying saucer, wandered unknowingly into a lair of bizarre, alien lifeforms, and thought it best to talk his way out of the scenario in a tongue understood only by himself.

I'm all about counterintuitive logic, but among Adjey's questionable and badly delivered advice to the crowd were these chestnuts.

1. He said he won't hire staff unless they have cell phones and actually use them while they're working in the kitchen.

The audience took this as a sign that they should be texting too, but Adjey got flustered and agitated whenever he saw people doing it, despite his suggestion that multitasking should complement everything.

2. He outright said, "Young people are the smartest people around;" odd choice, considering that the people who bought tickets to the event were mostly "old" and well off.

He could have saved his ass by saying "smarter...at technology" but, when challenged, he refused to budge from his initial statement. The tables full of "old people" tweeting on their mobiles was also a sign that maybe this crowd wasn't as dumb as he seemed to think.

3. He advised that one should never order "the daily special" at a restaurant - another odd choice, given that a good number of attendees were restaurateurs and damn proud of that daily special.

4. He said, ""Organic" is a scam."

Meet my organic fist

At this point, the crowd was clearly against the good chef. But this last bit of advice clearly came as a shocker to corporate sponsor - Organza. D'oh!

And Organza clearly came as a shocker to Adjey. One disgruntled attendee at the Organza table got up, removed the table placard with the Organza logo on it, approached Adjey, and angrily "stuck it in his face." The placard, that is.

Adjey begged him for a chance to explain - and for one painfully long moment, it seemed like Adjey was going to get a fist in the kisser.

However, the angry guy went back to his table, shouting things I couldn't hear, but with a look on his face that said, "This guy is frigging insane."

For his part, Adjey tried to win back the crowd by saying that he wasn't talking about ALL organic, just the BAD organic, and that clearly Organza was the GOOD organic, because it has angry employees who throw placards in your face if you say it's anything else.

To the attendees, he came off as the worst kind of bully: the kind who beats you up until you challenge him back, at which point he folds like a deck of cards. 

And that's when the heckling began.

Examples:

Adjey: "Can anybody tell me what the future of restaurants is?"
Audience: "Organic!

Adjey: "I'm going to be talking for 20 more minutes."
Audience: Argh!

And so he pressed on. And on. And on.

People stared at their laps, rolled their eyes, and texted loved ones "in case."

At the end of the event, the flabbergasted and angry crowd was abuzz with rhetorical questions, like: "What's wrong with this guy?"; "Why is he such a bully?"; "Let's get him!" 

I guess the last one isn't a question.

And maybe it says a lot that, when I asked a person attending on behalf of the Children's Wish Foundation - the charity that was being benefited by the event - what she thought, she said, "I wish a trap door would have opened up, so I could've jumped in."

We can only be thankful that the Children's Wish Foundation made some money and the crowd was granted a blessed wish of its own when Adjey finally exited the ballroom.

Laptop program? How about iPhone program?

Should RRC be goin' mobile?

There's been much handwringing, consternation, and naysaying in Creative Communications in recent times about whether students entering our program should have to buy or lease a laptop computer when they become a student.

Then I shut my big mouth, and all of the handwringing, consternation, and naysaying stops.

There are pros and cons to having a laptop on every lap, and I could easily debate both sides of the issue: the convenience and compatibility on the plus side, the expense (to students) and reduced attention spans killing the classroom dynamic on the other.

It hasn't been as much of an issue for the Graphic Design program at RRC, which took the leap to laptops years ago, got on its high horse, rode out of town, and never looked back. Come back, Shane!

Will the iPhone replace the laptop?

But today I had lunch with Anvil Digital creative guru and CreComm grad Carly Thompson, and we discussed a wide range of issues, from our server's interesting fashion choice - a fuzzy, warm-looking winter sweater with a big hole in the front for no other reason than to prominently display cleavage - to the direction of the communications industry.

I'll pause here to let you get the sweater/cleavage image out of your head. Gone? Let's move on...I'm Roger Lodge, and this is Blind Date!

I had the communications industry on the mind after a very interesting meeting with the Creative Communications advisory committee yesterday, which is made up of industry leaders in the broadcast, ad, PR, and journalism industries.

We went around the table and discussed the future of the business, and it became quite clear that "Mom, dad: something's changed." It's no longer enough to just be a reporter who hands in a piece of paper at the end of the day and goes home, or a person who can't write, but can read the news because he or she looks great on TV, or who "knows how Twitter works" but doesn't actually use it.

Like we didn't know this already: being a communications professional - journalist, PR, advertiser, media producer - means being connected, online and otherwise, 24 hours a day. Shooting video. Tweeting. Blogging. Uploading. Downloading. Moderating. Writing. Commenting. Podcasting. And then doing the job that used to be "the job."

As Carly and I discussed these issues, we couldn't help but notice our iPhones on the table and had a eureka! moment at the same time: "Forget laptops," we said in unison, like much of the dialogue I read in radio ads this semester (ha, ha!), "CreComm should be an iPhone program!"

The man comes around

It may sound insane coming from Mr. Anti Cell Phone himself, but as I - and everyone who owns an iPhone - knows it's not a cell phone, it's a laptop computer in mobile form. Hell, it's even better than a laptop.

I currently use my iPhone to:

• Take and send pictures;

• Shoot video and post it to YouTube wirelessly;

• Send and receive emails;

• Use Twitter;

• Use voice-activated Google. No kidding. And it works!

• Get the news through apps (the Times, USA Today, BBC, the Globe and Mail, Telegraph, ITN, CBC Radio, NPR News, Time, Huffington Post, Consumer Reports);

• Record podcasts for AudioBoo;

• Follow stocks - they don't call me "Moneybags Larsen" for nothing;

• Watch video and films (YouTube and the NFB app is incredible);

• Text message my one friend who sends text messages;

• Write and publish mobile blog posts using the BlogPress app;

• Play music (uDrummer, TonePad, iPod, iTunes);

• Follow RSS feeds (all of the blogs you see on the blogroll to the right of this page);

• And sometimes to even talk to people.

Is this not the job description of a communications professional, and are these not the tools we need in order to attack the multi-faceted jobs that run and ruin our lives?

Are we not men? We are Devo!

I hate to imagine a classroom of students and instructors all checking their text messages at the same time - like some of those laptop classes I see when I walk down the hallway: students and instructors staring silently at screens, ironically, just like the dudes in the Apple 1984 ad.

Even worse is the idea that no one has to come to school anymore, because we're all "connected" online. As anyone who has taken an online class can attest: no one ever learns anything "attending" class by watching a video - it's like eating a meal by looking at a photo of a buffet.

But if we take care of the "rudeness, engagement, and attendance issues," then everything else is pretty good. The iPhone 3GS is more affordable than a laptop at $300 and all of the great apps are mostly free, though the monthly Rogers fee is prohibitive around $80.

As many of my PR students pointed out in their recent research papers, the college spends tens of thousands of tuition dollars a year on printing a student newspaper; since it's inevitably going to go online, shouldn't the school's reporters and editors get iPhones instead? Rise up for the iPhone revolution!

Smartphones for smartpeople

Apart from that, the iPhone has other uses in the academic environment: the University of Saskatchewan has its own, free iPhone app - iUSask - that allows students to find their classes, get library books, and check their grades, and the University of Missouri makes the iPhone or iPod Touch mandatory for its journalism students.

An RRC app would be pretty cool; we could find out what's on the menu at Prairie Lights, how construction is going on the new Culinary Arts building, and who hasn't been selected for Breakfast with the...aww, forget it.

Of course, the iPhone could just be a flash in the pan, but I don't think so. As I've said before, a quick trip to the U.S., where the iPhone was released first, shows that practically everyone has one, from kids to senior citizens.

As well, the next generation iPhone is going to probably blow our minds with all of the even niftier things it can do.

Before you know it, you won't be sneaking peaks at your iPhone during class, the iPhone will be the class. Take that Marshall McLuhan!

What would you do?

So, if you had your druthers, would CreComm be a laptop program? An iPhone program? A none-of-the-above program?

And how much would you be willing to pay extra in tuition in order to have access to the new technology and technical support?

Loud cell-phone talkers: don't call us, we'll call you

I am Larry David. Hear me roar.

There are only two sins that I consider to be unforgivable:

1. Throwing trash on the ground.

2. Screaming into a cell phone in what's supposed to be a quiet, public place.

And the good and bad news is that I'm willing to back my belief with action and activism by being a "rudeness Nazi," which consists of fighting rudeness with rudeness in hopes of attaining that one, clear "teachable moment" where we all can hold hands and sing "Kum Ba Yah," nary a cell phone or piece of garbage in sight.

Hallelujah, brothers and sisters.

Great balls of fire!

To prove it, here's a dance-remix collection of some of my greatest hits, not including "Great Balls of Fire:"

• Picking up a Coke can freshly thrown out of a car window, and throwing it back from whence it came.
  

• Picking up wrappers freshly dropped onto the ground, sneaking up behind the guy who dropped them, and surreptitiously putting them back into his coat pocket, where - I hope - he discovered them later, saw the error of his ways, and repented for all time.

• Saying, "Shame on you" when a guy chucked his cigarette wrapper onto the sidewalk on Broadway. To my surprise, he picked it up. Shame works!
  

• Rolling my eyes as I pick up someone's fresh garbage and make a grand show of it as I drop it into the recycling bin, as if to say, "See, it's right here. You could've done it. But you didn't. Because you're rude. And lazy. And don't care about the environment. You suck."

• Waiting for a loud cell phone talker to reveal his (it's always a guy) phone number on the bus. When he does, writing it down, then calling him later on to politely let him know how rude he was (or still is) being.

• Sitting next to a loud cell phone talker on the bus, and pretending that I'm on the other end of the conversation. Example:
  

Loud Cell Phone Talker (on cell phone): "Where we goin' tonight?"
Me (not on cell phone): "Applebee's?!"

I've found that these Larry David-inspired shticks get big laughs when I tell the stories later. However, men do seem to enjoy them more than women, which is usually the first sign you've embarked on something idiotic.

Of course, these seemingly harmless shenanigans can also get tense at times, because the offenders generally don't take kind to being publicly called out on being an idiot - though I'd argue that I'm just the guy making them aware of it. They were still idiots before I got involved, right? Right!

But so far, so good: I've lived to tell the tales. Whew.

Taking the sting out of rudeness

I thought about my little vigilantism hobby yesterday when I picked up the New York Times - yes, the very paper I've resolved to stop quoting so much in 2010 - and was delighted to see the article, "As the rudes get ruder, the scolds get scoldier."

Turns out that my side project is, in fact, a grassroots movement. And newsworthy, no less.

In the article, we meet:

• Amy Alkon, an advice columnist, and woman after my own heart, employing my patented "call the caller" shtick. But she takes it a step further, posting the personal details she overhears from loud cell-phone talkers on her blog.
  

• Vinnie Bartilucci, a computer programmer who places a small recording device next to people talking on their cell phones. When questioned, he replies, "Since you obviously want me to hear your conversation, I'd better keep a copy of it."

• Shannon Stamey, who runs the Disaffected Scanner Jockey blog, where she regularly recounts tales of her confrontations with rude people - to the delight of her readers.

• Lynne Brown, an office manager, who listens in to people's conversations, then asks them about personal details when she runs into them later. "Hey, how's that group therapy going?"
  

• Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig - famous actors! - who recently broke character in A Steady Rain on Broadway to stick it to an audience member whose cell wouldn't stop ringing.

Can you fight rudeness with rudeness?

However, what had never really crossed my mind until yesterday is the question raised in the second part of the story: could it be that these "harmless pranks" aren't actually teaching anybody anything, just making the offensive person more defensive and doubling up on the rudeness?

Hmmm....it's a good point, I guess. So, what's an anti-rude, rude activist to do besides embracing the irony?

The Times' floats this possibility: the card company, pardonMOI, which makes cards for strangers, like:

"Pardon MOI, I couldn't help but notice that you're talking too loudly on your cell phone...perhaps you could tone it down a little?"

And, for planes:

"Pardon MOI, I couldn't help but notice that your group is too loud...we're getting complaints from other planes."

Not bad. But it still doesn't change the fact that if your message isn't taken well by the offender, you're stuck in a plane with him 32,000 feet above planet Earth.

So, I've been thinking about another solution, which involves bringing the loud cell-phone talkers into another arena: art. Instead of insulting and ridiculing them, maybe we should celebrate them as "great artists," which is something that the Bud Light Real Men of Genius Campaign has already done, God bless 'em:



I've also considered a YouTube gallery of fame, not shame, in which we post a celebration of "Mr. Really Loud Cell Phone Talker Guys," who, as the above ad says, "Insist on ignoring the latest advances in cell phone technology," like this young man - the future Prime Minister of Canada, perhaps - and his enabler on a Winnipeg Transit bus:



At the end of each year, we vote, tally the results, and crown our very own King of Rudeness. The guy gets a key to the city, and is placed - sans cell phone - in a little chair at the top of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights' Tower of Hope, where we affix him with display spotlights, a la Purple City.

At ground level will be a bronze plaque that reads, "I'm sorry. We can't hear you. You're breaking up. Good bye."