led light: My kingdom for a beep-free day
Christian Giggenbach
This Side of The Fence
Many people hail the new-fangled, high-tech products these days as an efficient way to deal with a modern society. Anything with batteries or an electric cord is bound to have a red LED light and make some type of beeping noise. With so many things beeping, it’s hard to tell what’s yours and what’s your neighbor’s.
Even my lap top computer takes voice commands — except for “help!” — and it talks to me by proclaiming the time of the day every 15 minutes. However, I’ve yet to be able to program it to sing my faithful dog Malachai a bedtime lullaby.
If you’re really bored today and your boss isn’t watching, try counting every device that you come across that either beeps or has a red light on it.
I do appreciate the red lights on newer cell phones designed to tell unsuspecting idiots someone is on a call. It works well the other way around, too. If you see someone you don’t particularly want to talk to, just pop the phone up to your ear and point to the red light when they try to make small talk. A lot of people I approach have their cell phone to their ears for some reason.
Do all of these so-called high tech products really make us better off? I don’t think so.
How did we manage during yesteryear when the only thing electronic was an odd game called Pong and the only thing that beeped was an open car door? Most people over 40 years of age are laughing at that last statement because they probably had to deal with cars that didn’t even have doors. No hate mail please.
Take for instance the common everyday convenience store rest room. While most are dirtier than a Washington, D.C., lobbyist, I recently came across one which was fairly clean, but still gave me the heebie-jeebies.
The odd thing about this rest room was that everything in it was activated by infrared sensors. Well, almost everything.
You didn’t need to flush the toilet because it did it on its own when you got up. Be careful not to lean forward when sitting on one of these contraptions or it will likely double as a bidet. The sink was also activated this way, and the hand towel machine too.
The only device not remotely controlled was the toilet paper dispenser. One might think in the germophobic society we live in, that would be the first restroom amenity which would go infrared. Expecting it was like all the other devices in the rest room, I spent five minutes passing my hand over and under the toilet paper expecting it to roll out like magic, but to no avail.
Then I got up to wash my hands only to find that no water would come out of the faucet. Leaving my toolbox at home, I was unable to disconnect any of the plumbing underneath the sink in an effort to wash my hands.
I thought I would at least be able wipe my hand off on some paper towels, but it wasn’t working either. In fact, I never even heard the toilet flush. How’s that for a modern society?
Nothing in the bathroom worked at all and I blame it on technology. A good sturdy paper dispenser made out of plastic with a metal handle could operate in good form for hundreds of years. Sinks are still operational from the turn of the century, yet there I stood in the modern day bathroom with unwashed hands while smelling an indescribable odor.
The best public bathroom in Greenbrier County is by far the one at Lewisburg City Hall. There’s no fancy-schmancy infrared crap on every fixture. Lewisburg must maintain its historical cultural heritage, right? For that matter, Lewisburg should actually have an outhouse as its city hall rest room. I think I will talk to the historical commission about that one. Just call it a tourist attraction. Anyone fined for vandalism in the city has to clean it out. Works for me.
The restrooms at The Greenbrier are world class and it makes you feel bad to even touch anything in them. No paper towels in the main dining room ones, just soft, plush towels that don’t readily fit inside a jacket pocket. Those bathrooms really make a fella feel important.
Carpe Diem, everybody, and may your day be beep-free.
— Christian is a Register-Herald reporter who doesn’t own an Xbox.
E-mail: cgiggenbach@register-herald.com
Christian Giggenbach
This Side of The Fence
Many people hail the new-fangled, high-tech products these days as an efficient way to deal with a modern society. Anything with batteries or an electric cord is bound to have a red LED light and make some type of beeping noise. With so many things beeping, it’s hard to tell what’s yours and what’s your neighbor’s.
Even my lap top computer takes voice commands — except for “help!” — and it talks to me by proclaiming the time of the day every 15 minutes. However, I’ve yet to be able to program it to sing my faithful dog Malachai a bedtime lullaby.
If you’re really bored today and your boss isn’t watching, try counting every device that you come across that either beeps or has a red light on it.
I do appreciate the red lights on newer cell phones designed to tell unsuspecting idiots someone is on a call. It works well the other way around, too. If you see someone you don’t particularly want to talk to, just pop the phone up to your ear and point to the red light when they try to make small talk. A lot of people I approach have their cell phone to their ears for some reason.
Do all of these so-called high tech products really make us better off? I don’t think so.
How did we manage during yesteryear when the only thing electronic was an odd game called Pong and the only thing that beeped was an open car door? Most people over 40 years of age are laughing at that last statement because they probably had to deal with cars that didn’t even have doors. No hate mail please.
Take for instance the common everyday convenience store rest room. While most are dirtier than a Washington, D.C., lobbyist, I recently came across one which was fairly clean, but still gave me the heebie-jeebies.
The odd thing about this rest room was that everything in it was activated by infrared sensors. Well, almost everything.
You didn’t need to flush the toilet because it did it on its own when you got up. Be careful not to lean forward when sitting on one of these contraptions or it will likely double as a bidet. The sink was also activated this way, and the hand towel machine too.
The only device not remotely controlled was the toilet paper dispenser. One might think in the germophobic society we live in, that would be the first restroom amenity which would go infrared. Expecting it was like all the other devices in the rest room, I spent five minutes passing my hand over and under the toilet paper expecting it to roll out like magic, but to no avail.
Then I got up to wash my hands only to find that no water would come out of the faucet. Leaving my toolbox at home, I was unable to disconnect any of the plumbing underneath the sink in an effort to wash my hands.
I thought I would at least be able wipe my hand off on some paper towels, but it wasn’t working either. In fact, I never even heard the toilet flush. How’s that for a modern society?
Nothing in the bathroom worked at all and I blame it on technology. A good sturdy paper dispenser made out of plastic with a metal handle could operate in good form for hundreds of years. Sinks are still operational from the turn of the century, yet there I stood in the modern day bathroom with unwashed hands while smelling an indescribable odor.
The best public bathroom in Greenbrier County is by far the one at Lewisburg City Hall. There’s no fancy-schmancy infrared crap on every fixture. Lewisburg must maintain its historical cultural heritage, right? For that matter, Lewisburg should actually have an outhouse as its city hall rest room. I think I will talk to the historical commission about that one. Just call it a tourist attraction. Anyone fined for vandalism in the city has to clean it out. Works for me.
The restrooms at The Greenbrier are world class and it makes you feel bad to even touch anything in them. No paper towels in the main dining room ones, just soft, plush towels that don’t readily fit inside a jacket pocket. Those bathrooms really make a fella feel important.
Carpe Diem, everybody, and may your day be beep-free.
— Christian is a Register-Herald reporter who doesn’t own an Xbox.
E-mail: cgiggenbach@register-herald.com
