I could have gone into more detail about our Christmas celebration yesterday.* I thought about it, briefly, as I was editing (and slightly expanding) what I had originally written. But then CenturyLink kept cutting out my internet connection (predictably — no surprise, there, because my Internet Disservice Provider** leaves me high and dry, disconnected, offline at least a half dozen times each day), and I realized I hadnʼt actually asked my family for their permission to “appear” on the blog. Finally, I sympathetically realized that you, Gentle and Imposed-upon Readers, had probably somewhat more than you really ever wanted on my Christmas holiday.
But I could have detailed the entire twenty minutes (and somewhat more) that the family actually took exchanging gifts. Why? Because I had recorded the events, using a new toy that had finally arrived just after December began — my Livescribe Echo smartpen, designed to record audio and digitally remember what I write for later computer use. (It was my splurge purchase out of my summer salary this year, although I really shouldnʼt have splurge purchases of any kind.)
And unlike my CenturyLink internet connection, the pen works fine. A bit larger (wider/fatter) than a normal pen, it forces me, I find, to write almost legibly*** (and legibly enough that the associated handwriting-to-digital-text software**** actually can transcribe what I write into editable digital text at about 90-95% accuracy — which is better than my apparent mumbling has accomplished yet with speech-to-text using Dragon Dictate). Even just experimenting so far, I have done really well turning my script into digital text pretty easily (perhaps today I will attempt to do that for the blog).
The recording aspect is intended mostly to capture lectures and meetings (with notes — the audio being linked to the text or doodles one writes down in the special notebooks). I thought my smartpen might help me when my thoughts are running widely and rapidly ahead of my fingers and pen, writing. So far, that situation hasnʼt arisen, although I fell asleep last night imagining myself capturing the conversations all around me in, say, a Barnes & Noble Starbucks coffee area as I sat sipping a decaf-skim quad latte and composing the next adventures of Søren and Judah.
Except for the additional and continuous expense of buying the special notebooks necessary for the audio records and script transcriptions to operate correctly, I think the pen is pretty nice. (Oh, yes, you also have to buy the special ink cartridges that fit the pen. But I thought ahead, slightly, and bought some notebooks and refills when I bought the pen.) And I used it to write down my annual record of what Christmas gifts The Lovely One and I receive, so this year I also have an audio record of what was going on as I wrote (a rather self-conscious one on my part, admittedly).
The only problem I have is that my pen wonʼt register itself online (using the Livescribe Desktop and Connect software***** that automatically starts up when I attach the pen via USB for a charge and uploading of my most recent documents). Unlike some software and hardware companies (and ISPs**), the Livescribe technical support team has been industrious in trying to help me with the problem. Unfortunately, although I have reset my pen and downloaded and reinstalled the software again (and downloaded and installed two other bits of software not generally provided to the public), the pen still wonʼt register. I fill in my personal information (which by now the program and Livescribe know), but when I click the Continue button, nothing happens. Ever.
So far no cure (which means as of yesterday when I tried the latest fix). Very puzzling (and really only frustrating because I canʼt acquire my “free” full subscription to Evernote that came with the pen unless I register the pen). But kudos to Livescribe for actually trying.
Maybe tomorrowʼs post (when I should explain why I am seeking to post daily by yearʼs end, except, if you read on to the end, through the endnotes, I have another plan in mind by the time I finished editing this post) will be created by handwriting…
* I know: youʼre glad I didnʼt.
** CenturyLink, of course. (I grow more and more certain that our problems here in Our Town result from the ancient [copper] telephone wires that contemporary telecommunications companies want to use for far more data than such wires could ever serve, not to mention the switching and relay posts and such that really, really are antiquated and inappropriate. And yet, we pay here in the rural Midwest the same rates, pretty much, as optical fibre cable subscribers in the big urban centers… Not exactly appropriate. Or fair. When they were still Qwest, the company did assign technicians to install a house-wide filter to help my service; however, it never made much difference, really, and in recent months, the whole situation has just gotten worse. …But probably all this is another blog entirely.)
The picture to the right indicates just one day (and for CenturyLink a pretty average day) of my (tastefully edited-by-blurring) frustration at having an internet connection.
*** I had to revise that sentence from “A bit larger (wider/fatter) than a normal pen, I find it forces me to write almost legibly.” Do you realize why? — As I havenʼt written a post on grammar and usage in a very long time, Iʼll tell you tomorrow (even, or especially, if you did know why).
***** Both of which, contrary to some online reviews, donʼt seem buggy on a Mac (except probably for my registration issue).