There is certain old good saying that the blacksmith’s horse is without the proper shoes. So true. It is not just anybody from IT world who crawls out of the technical exposed world into the analogue sanctuary, to have the rest or just a good escape in something more different. Like a different dimension. I admit, I do not own the TV. Am I not a cool girl ?
I have just hosted Halloween movie night for the girls, with all the bells and the whistles, good food, fun, a horror film and..yes, analogue way to make it like Screen on the Green I have experienced years and years ago in London. With the thanks of new DVD player and my trusty movie projector workhorse.
I have ordered not just new vinyl record , online of course, from the Aussie band I have seen live in Liverpool as one of just 400 heads in the hall with the record store, but also the vinyl and a cassette of Olivia Dean. I just need to dive into that one specific box at my mother’s and find that cool ,walkman’ that my father used for his countryside walks. Maybe get a new one, the fact. I can wiggle my stiff hips and lips after the endless hours of the endless coding, checking, de-bugging and so like late Lady Diana. Not driving somebody mad with the loud sound. Like Girl Aloud. I have a good collection of the vinyls, just getting little better with the DVDs. There are so cheap, but there is also a newborn idea that once was the original purpose of Netflix. The brick and mortar rent shop with the DVDs. There is one on Wirral, if I am up to my IT cloud software company.
I’ve chosen to keep one foot in the world of modern technology while reaching back for the charm, tactility, and reliability of older devices—and there’s a certain poetry in that. Like in holding the hand with the loved one, or the book and yes, I like the ebook reader because it saves me space in the luggage to bring and pack at least 5 books with me. In a time when everything is designed to be fast, seamless, and constantly updating, there’s comfort in objects that simply do what they do without needing patches, passwords, or cloud syncs. A vinyl turntable offers warmth and ritual, the soft crackle that reminds you music used to be something you touched. The old alarm clock, unlike a buzzing rectangle full of notifications, wakes you without dragging you into a digital spiral. I have one on my smart phone and on the important date even one extra on my dumb phone, but nothing wakes you properly like the irony of the iron metal made time machine making more noise than a bunch of metal tins fighting each other. No I don’t have these smart bedroom things either. No smart household, only smartie is me and me and once again myself because I am analogue. No digital aroma diffuser or silent night sleep sound machine. The other half snores anyway -t the band of the drums and the trumpets cannot compete with him.
A DVD and projector combo turns watching a movie back into an event, not a background activity interrupted by algorithms suggesting what you should see next. An instant camera rewards you with a physical memory you can hold rather than a file you’ll probably never revisit. I need to add couple of polaroids on the fridge. Even that chunky, almost indestructible Nokia phone has its own charm—battery that lasts for days, buttons that click, a sense of life lived around the device instead of inside it. And on the road, a book feels like a companion in a way a glowing screen never does; it doesn’t track you, distract you, or demand anything except that you turn the next page.
We have already lined up Advent Christmas grown ups and the children DVD cinema playlist. One movie from the section for the big folks is apparently so bad according the reviews that you need a lot of eggnog to get you through. Or dunking the shortbread into the alcohol infused hot chocolate ( I have no sweet tooth, I am sweet enough, so hot as well), falling asleep and so on. It is a new Christmas challenge and the fun. Only shame is that my nephews are hard to convert into the fans of the adventure desktop games rather than sitting hours behind the game console. I remember as a complete rookie graduate how one former colleague has cried the river that she has not enough money for her son’s presents under the Christmas tree. She was a divorced mother of 2, living with her parents in huge house in the village, in a separate flat and she received the child maintenance from her ex husband police officer of a higher rank. I got it when the other colleague has mentioned the word – new X Box. I love my job, that tech side of developing something new, but I still write down the to do list and certain notes on the paper and I like that new dimension – analogue.
Choosing these analogue tools isn’t about rejecting the digital world but balancing it, remembering that technology was once designed to enhance life rather than consume attention. It’s a quiet statement that sometimes the older, slower, more tangible things still do their jobs beautifully—and often, they help you feel more present in your own life. Imagine Timothy Chalamet on his urban bike without any breaks, like once in London and the red carpet, crashing your Christmas Day with his ping pong balls similar to drunk Santa Clause red nose in your sitting room. Virtually, of course. I know certainly I will be watching certain 2 ,fairytales’ from my childhood (say Cinderella and Three Wishes) not on You Tube, but on the TV, because I will spend festive season abroad, after many years in my beloved UK and typical no white Christmas.
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