The “Monday lunchtime trip to the pool” conversation between my co-worker and I is usually about what we did over the weekend. Sounds a little grade-school when you say it like that, but it’s usually interesting. This time, my co-worker said that he had gone to a folk music concert and was surprised at how much he enjoyed it. Not enough to go out and buy folk albums, but enjoyable live.
It got me thinking about watching baseball. On TV, well, I’d almost rather watch golf – or watch paint dry – but in person, a baseball game can be a lot of fun.
What is it about the recorded version of these things – folk music and baseball – that detracted so much from the live version?
My theory is that the live versions allow us to be our own editors, instead of relying on someone else to filter the event and distill what they think is important.
When there’s a pause in a baseball game on TV, it gets filled with a commercial. When there’s a pause in an in-person game, there are people to watch and mascots to mock. There’s the 7th inning physical stretch and “beer heeeeeeeeere”. In the pause, there are things other than baseball – but maybe not any less engaging.
A live folk show has atmosphere and the sense of a unique moment. A recording – even a “live” recording – misses something special about the people around us and how we perceive them. There’s something in being present that adds to the experience.
From this, it would seem that a recording would always pale before a live event – but if the fault is in the editing then the right editor could improve on reality.
I went to a photography show this past weekend and the exhibit had photos of places I had almost surely driven past, but disregarded.
The photographer had captured something else – and sense of cheer in some cases, but mostly bleakness. Something I would have missed with my own filters applied as I drove past these places in the “live” view. Being present in the real world didn’t automatically make me a better editor.
Every moment of our waking lives our brains are furiously editing out massive amounts of information from our senses – things that our internal editor decides we don’t need to remember or even consciously think about.
So, maybe the key to getting more out of our lives and our experiences is to try and be better editors and be more aware of our filters.
It seemed a little deeper and more profound earlier today, but there’s still maybe something useful here.