When I was a kid, the Armbrusters had a slide projector.  Which meant that after every vacation they took, we’d troop dutifully to their house for endless carousels of badly-shot Kodachrome slides, narrated  live.  The slide show always seemed longer than the vacation itself.  Washed-out, badly composed views of Disneyland or Paris—dotted here and there with the back of the head of someone we knew. Today people record hours and hours of vacation video on a single chip.  Instead of making you visit their living rooms, they trap you at parties, work, on the train-- anywhere-- and make you watch.…