William Penn Life, 2015 (50. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)

2015-02-01 / 2. szám

Did you know they're Hungarian? As a perennial student, I have become sedated mentally to the many mundane and similarly styled presentations given by professional educators utiliz­ing the standard computer programs available. In late 2009, a trio of enterprising Magyar com­puter programmers/engineers collaborated to produce a new and versatile presentation program called “Prezi.” Péter Halácsy, Szabolcs Somlai-Fischer and Péter Árvái introduced to the world of technol­ogy a new way to easily make displays and demon­strations come alive. Prezi seamlessly incorporates illustrations, photos and videos that can be changed in size, dimension and perspective. Prezi is easy to use and expand upon. Developed at the Budapest University of Technol­ogy and Economics, Prezi is available online for free, along with cloud storage capabilities. Prezi is cur­rently based in Budapest with over 250 employees. Recently, it opened a satellite office in Silicon Valley California. containers, crockery, and even clothing are widely avail­able for purchase. Most Americans with means decorate their homes in a similar fashion. My parents' house, for example, has an old two-man logsaw hung above the mantelpiece. In my Aunt Olga's house, an antique turn crank telephone is the focal point of her kitchen. Even in my apartment in Washington, I have an old banker's lamp (the classic green glass and brass fixture) on my desk right next to the Coronamatic typewriter. Hungarian antique stores-and someone please correct me if I am wrong-are filled with historical trinkets, such as medals, postcards, bottles, and the like. In essence, these shops sold the detritus of a society looking to shed its past. If Ostalgia (nostalgia for the communist era) is real, then its existence cannot be derived from the popu­larity of its memorabilia. Even the Hungarian homes I visited, with one notable exception, were bare and sparse in their use of antiques and curios from their nation. The exception was the home of a retired electrical engineer named Endre. My relatives told me Endre devoted much of his home to his collection of historical memorabilia, so much so that they referred to his home as a museum. While Endre's collection may inspire awe in his fellow countrymen and women, it did not meet my expectations. His collection contains military and government sur­plus and other functional items, but I would not call it a museum. Not to take away from Endre's enterprise, I just think it is interesting to juxtapose different perspectives on the value of objects from the past. If I am right, and there is a difference in how Ameri­cans and Hungarians approach the items of the past, what accounts for such a difference? Is it simply economic? Hungarians cannot afford to make tools into curios? I do not think so, otherwise there would be some use of non-Tibor's Take functional items to decorate their living space (framed newspapers or medals, for example). Could it be that so much recent Hungarian history is painful, and thus not worthy of remembrance? That, too, does not make complete sense, because there were memo­rials and monuments in town to commemorate those lost in the world wars. Could it be that Hungarians are simply not conscious caretakers of the past? That also is not the case, because frequenting and maintaining grave sites is common prac­tice in Hungary, more so than in my experience in the U.S. Then what, exactly, can account for these differences? I am not sure that I know the answer. But, I am fairly confident that my dad's Coronamatic would not occupy such a prominent place on a Hungarian desk as it does on mine, even though it is fit for only the most special and meaningful of correspondence. Are these differences significant? Do they represent a major point of departure between two cultures, or are they just simple anecdotes that represent nothing? My thoughts on antiques are an allegory for culture it­self. After culture ceases to perform any practical func­tion-providing a shared sense of belief, community and purpose for a society—like Hungarian culture in an assimi­lated America, what is the reason to hold on to it? Where I live now, towns all across Virginia and Mary­land take time to point out (and profit from) the most minute of historical details of past events: "George Wash­ington slept here"; "Abraham Lincoln ate here"; "Union and Confederate troops had a skirmish here." Even in my tiny D.C. neighborhood of Glover Park, signs commemo­rate seemingly trivial details. One such sign across the street from my apartment records the existence of a small­time recording studio. Memory has the power to restore life to concepts, people and places long dead and forgotten. Antiques physically connect us to beloved people and places of the past, as well, because such remnants have the ability to transcend both space and time. They bring a sampling of something wondrously important to a new generation. Éljen a Magyar! Tibor II Tibor Check, Jr., is a member of Branch 28. Let's hear your take If you have any questions or comments about me or my column, please email me at: silverkingl937@ yahoo.com, or drop me a letter in care of the William Penn Association, 709 Brighton Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15233. William Penn Life 0 February 2015 0 7

Next

/
Thumbnails
Contents