I'm Behind The Times (and ok with it)

Well, folks.  I guess the Internet is really not a fad after all.  I thought maybe it would fizzle out like Z Cavariccis, hair feathers, or silly bands.  But the outlook is fair to midland: it's safe to stay it's here to stay.  And it has changed the technology horizon forever and ever.  Zippity-do-da. 


Growing up, my technology consisted of this,-------------------->
the guy with the muffled electronic voice that gave up on you after 3 incorrect attempts to spell "mullet,"
and this.  It wouldn't allow you to play multiple keys at once, and it was only a matter of seconds before your sister knocked you out for pushing that green demo button one more time.
Oh yeah, and don't let me forget about my Sony Walkman with a Beach Boys cassette tape worn out from over 2000 plays of Kokomo.  Aruba, Jamaica, ooh, I wanna take-ya... 
That's about it.  The rest of the time, we were outside trespassing on other people's property, selling lemonade and friendship bracelets, riding our bikes places we had no business riding, or fighting over who got to be the girl that day in our pre-Dancing With the Stars, pre-Abby Lee Dance Company dance competitions. 


We sure didn't have time to sit around all day and push refresh* just to see what every other kid we knew was doing that minute. 

*If someone pushed refresh on me right now, the pulse-racing updates they'd receive are...
I'm like, totally making a Velveeta and bacon sandwich cause it's like YOLO
I'm like, totes going to Target & the gas station.  Who wants to come? YKYWT (you know you want to)

Although sometimes I wanted to be a couch potato, I was not able to sit there holding a palm-sized communication device, half watching tv, allowing my brain to turn into putty.  This came later in life.  I still don't watch a lot of tv, mostly I fall asleep to it.  Am I the only one who's not watching Down at the Abbey? 

And even now, when I hear that M*A*S*H theme song come on, even if I'm sound asleep, it only takes me 1.5 seconds to throw an object at just the right angle and velocity to hit the OFF button.

But getting back to the point, in my house, we're only slightly more evolved than Fred and Wilma.  I mean, it was only a few months ago that Phil and I discovered Angry Birds.  And apparently, babies are playing that game in utero, and they come out already on level 12-4.  And they're tweeting about it. 

AND THEN WE HAD A BABY.

So then we laughed at how funny it was that, just a short while back, we were able to play a game with birds, pork, and slingshots for hours on end.  Ah, free time, I miss you.

I'll give you just a few examples.  We don't have dvr.  There are no iphones or ipads in our home.  We drive a 1993 Toyota truck and a 2001 Aztec.  We don't own any new fancy tools.  And we still have the same Nintendo game that debuted in 1985.  The one where you have to blow in it to get it to work.  Therefore, I have email, this here blog, and Instagram for sharing photos back and forth with friends and family.     

In all seriousness, if you look at all these gadgets, gizmos, apps, and apparatuses, many of them are great.  But they all require time and attention.  And like I try to instill in my 12 year old stepdaughter, if you have to be concerned with keeping up with the Jetsons all the time, you'll miss out on lots of cool things that are happening around you.  In real time. 

Aren't the best moments in life those moments that are not recorded, photographed, or shared via (insert social media choice here)?

I know that eventually, we'll have to break down, contribute to the college funds of Steve Jobs' grandchildren, and buy one of those padular, post-binkie, all-ages pacifiers. 

And probably also a gaming system because we have a little boy who will want to beat his Dad at a virtual golf tournament or wrestling match.

But for right now, I'm going to bask in the happy glow of being behind the times.  Because I think for me, being behind the times actually gives me more time to enjoy my loved ones. 

You know.  Mario, Luigi, and the princess in another castle.