“Ring,
Ring”, “Buzz, Buzz”, “ïð”. These are the various sounds we hear every
day, whether we are walking in the street, riding on the subway, sitting in a
restaurant or hanging out with our families.
We spend our time reading our emails, responding to texts or sometimes,
just sometimes, actually talking to someone.
We are online, we are linked in, we are “connected” and we are “in
touch”. When we leave our homes, we
reach for our cell phones; it has become one of our most important
accessories. I think that at this point,
if given the choice to go out commando or without our mobile devices, the
underwear business would be in trouble! We
always know where our loved ones are and they are only a cell phone call away.
There
is the old phrase, “You can run, but you cannot hide.” Technology has edged us
closer to the world of Big Brother (the George Orwell book, not the reality TV
game show). While Utopian thinking would
be that this is great, because we all know where everyone is at all times, the
Dystopian thinking is that this is horrible, because we all know where everyone
is at all times I remember when I first
went away to college, way back in 1981, those were the days before emails and
cell phones. There was one phone on our
dorm floor and you had to put coins in to use it, or call “collect” (which for
the younger readers, meant the person receiving the call would pay). For the first time in my life, I was
untethered from my parents – FREEDOM! As
a child, I was happy not to have my parents “checking in on me”. As a parent, in today’s world, I am happy to
know that if I want to, I can “check in” on my children.
What
about adult to adult? Debbie and I have
fully embraced the mobile comm.-link between us. After having written that out, I feel like we
have our own personal Lieutenant Uhura on staff, making sure that the
“communication is open”. Today, while I
write this, I am watching Rebecca play in a bowling league that she is using as
practice in preparation for re-joining her school’s team. “Uhura, please open up a comm.-line to Debbie”
and my wife instantly knew Bec’s scores.
While I laugh at how strange this sounds compared to when I was a kid,
we do enjoy knowing where each other is.
The flipside is that if one of us forgets, or does not respond to the
other’s text in a timely matter, our imaginations tend to go way off.
“ïð” – That’s my communicator, ha ha. “It’s
Uhura, sir. I have your Dad on the line, should I patch him through?” Oops,
gotta go…
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