I had no idea “milk bars” were greeted with such consternation in 1950s Britain. “Milk Bars, Starbucks and the Uses of Literacy,” written by Joe Moran and printed in the November 2006 edition of Cultural Studies, touches upon a number of cultural influences affecting British youth in the 50s. Like jukeboxes:

“… By the end of 1957, 8000 jukeboxes had been imported from America …

Many commentators were … hostile to the jukeboxes, because they offered a cheap, synthetic alternative to live dance bands.

In the 1950s, there were still about three million people a week in Britain frequenting halls licensed solely for dancing …”

Even worse, a transition was underway, as the local milk bar was facing competition from the relatively new espresso bar:

“… The espresso bars were thus different from the milk bars in that they actively encouraged young people to ‘hang around’ talking and playing records, without necessarily spending much on coffee. the average waiting time in a Wimpy Bar, by contrast, was 17 minutes.

The coffee bars influenced youth culture in a way that the earlier milk bars never had, because they allowed customers to linger in a thoroughly sensual environment, the hissing steam from the Gaggia machine, the colourful decor, and the smell of coffee and boiled milk …”

A former television repair centre, found on a backstreet here in Ottawa. The sign hangs over a roll-up steel door. This was personalized and convenient service, allowing you to drive your car or truck right into the service bay so your oversized television console could be brought in for repair with relatively little fuss.

The font choice is remarkably clean and modern for a business so obviously rooted in the 1960s and 1970s.

Let’s remember: when we used to talk about “portable TVs,” we meant bulky and heavy 13″ units, often with a built-in VCR. And rabbit ears.

Those units, as the sign notes, you could drag around to the side door yourself.

Over the past seven or eight years, it has become ridiculously easy to buy and set up a 42″ television - by yourself. I still remember a time when, as you were moving into a new house, you had to decide where the television was going to be placed - because it took two burly movers to put it in place, and it would never be moved again.

Yesterday, I broke with habit, I abandoned a now-established tradition. I called a 1-800 number to make a reservation.

And the customer service representative tried to game me - and the system - twice!

One on the price, and a second time on the after-service quality survey.

Since I have such low standards for call centre CSRs, I expected to be bluffed with a higher room rate, even as I quoted from the website.

Once we had finished the call, though, she asked if I would mind taking a few minutes to answer an automated survey on the quality of her service.

Then she lays this on me:

“…If you thought my service was acceptable, you can just answer 5 to every question…”

Talk about skewing the results!

Ever the contrarian, I followed her instructions - but pressed 5 even before the automated voice had finished the question. My goal? to make sure the system knew something was wonky with their survey.

It worked. At the end of the “few minutes,” another automated voice noted that my answers had seemed unusual, and offered me the opportunity to leave a voice comment about my experience.