“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…