san francisco

[rich]

I get your point, jochen. It's just that I wonder in future when people's
pasts are available in crystal clear digital, how that will affect their
memories. maybe i'm a middle age tweener but there's something to me more
poignant in old photos of family, places, friends than live action video.
I'm thinking visually, sparking of memories not other impressions like
smell and the like. who knows, maybe in future we'll be able to smell our
memories, too (though someone will use to torture someone no doubt)


On Sat, Jul 27, 2013 at 8:45 AM, jochen stremmel <jstremmel at gmail.com>wrote:

> I think it's still there, the mystery. Perhaps more for us, the old ones.
> The smell of cabbage in the staircase of an apartment building, and the
> pictures it can conjure up ... not for you growing up in the suburbs or the
> country. There was an entire Uncle-Scrooge-Story about the smell of
> cabbage, really great, one of the first of Carl Barks, if I remember
> correctly. The Beagle Boys and an island were involved. Books without
> pictures can do it as well, of course, if not better. The medium should not
> be too hot. The cooler the better.
>
>
> 2013/7/24 Rich <richard.romeo at gmail.com>
>
>> With instant video, all consuming digital documentation, we are killing
>> off our eventual and much needed longing for the past since we have such
>> easy access to it.
>>
>> Can anyone tell the difference between recent years? Everything is
>> leveled. All those mysteries have become certainties, our despair.
>>
>>
>> On Jul 24, 2013, at 3:42 AM, jochen stremmel <jstremmel at gmail.com> wrote:
>>
>> Nearly everything.
>>
>>
>> 2013/7/23 Robert Mahnke <rpmahnke at gmail.com>
>>
>>> Nostalgia was better then.
>>>
>>>
>>> On Mon, Jul 22, 2013 at 5:22 AM, jochen stremmel <jstremmel at gmail.com>wrote:
>>>
>>>> Stumbling over a short passage in a polit thriller from more than 40
>>>> years ago, I remembered a short thread here about the gentrification of SF
>>>> (mildly put as memories like to do). Here is the paragraph:
>>>>
>>>> I signed the bill, adding a 20 percent tip, which made the bellhop
>>>> happy or at least less morose. After he left I mixed a drink and stood by
>>>> the window gazing out over the city with its bridge in the background. It
>>>> was one of those spectacularly fine days that San Francisco manages to come
>>>> up with sometimes in early September: a few quiet clouds, an indulgent sun,
>>>> and air so sparkling that you know somebody 's eventually going to bottle
>>>> it. I stood there in my room on the seventeenth floor and sipped the scotch
>>>> and stared out at what was once touted as America's favorite city. Maybe it
>>>> still is.
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>>
>>>
>>
>
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