It would be going too far to call myself a Luddite, but at one time I firmly believed that most emerging technology was a waste of time. I thought that laptop computers were for the object-oriented, DVD players were idiotic, that cell phones pressed on ears was a disgusting sight and personalized ring tones were obnoxious.
Now, after watching a movie on DVD, I begin typing this column on a laptop on which I am also downloading MP3 files and burning them onto a CD. In case I miss any calls on my home phone, I have my cell phone to use as a backup. And yes, I do have a personalized ring tone. Neil Diamond’s “America,” anyone? Talk about obnoxious.
It is unclear when my conversion to loving technology took place exactly. I don’t remember when I first got a cell phone, and I certainly don’t know how I ever lived without one. I do remember justifying getting a cell phone when I finally decided that it was time. “Well,” I asked myself, “what happens if I am in the woods somewhere and my car breaks down or I get lost?”
“Call someone on my cell phone,” seemed like the most logical answer. Sounds like a convincing argument, I suppose, but the damn phone probably wouldn’t even get any reception in the woods, anyway.
I suppose if I were to use a global positioning system, I could justify it the same way.
To be an even bigger hypocrite, I am horribly impatient when people are slow to adapt to a new technology or
if I have to resort to the “old” way of doing things.
I get galled when I have to sit and wait for a tape to rewind when I know that with a DVD, I could skip to the beginning or middle with the push of a single button.
I get chafed at my friends who don’t have cell phones for inconveniencing me by not allowing me access to talk to them whenever I see fit (But, after sitting here and thinking about it for a few minutes, I can only think of three people I know that don’t have cell phones, and of those three, I know one is in the process of getting one).
Use a typewriter? I don’t even know where I could find one.
I wish that I could go back to a time before I knew the joys of technology. I feel like an ex-drug addict who wishes that they never found the delectation of opiates, or an ex-alcoholic who wishes they never took a sip from the first bottle. If there were a local 12-step program available for technology addiction, I would have to sign up.
I was watching television a while ago and was flipping through the channels when I came to OPB. Before my eyes was the solution to my problem: “Frontier House.” The series is a reality show minus the trash factor. The premise behind “Frontier House” is a family moves to the middle of nowhere and is made to live as if they were homesteaders in the still-wilderness state of Montana in 1883.
The family gets an allotment of money and enough things to keep them alive. Then, all of the goods they acquired outside of those a person from 1883 would be expected to have are confiscated — particularly cell phones. They keep in touch with family and friends via the Postal Service and telegraphs, and can’t be bothered with television and computers because they hadn’t been invented yet. The family gets the privilege of returning to a simpler time when survival was dependent on working hard and not being distracted by electronic gadgets. It would be a perfect escape.
Until I check into technology rehab, or sign up to be on “Frontier House,” I will continue to look up Web sites and glance over prices for things that I know I don’t need but absolutely want. This week, I want a new PowerBook G4 — with the 17-inch screen of course — and a Nokia 7650 — because taking pictures with a cell phone is so unnecessary, but so cool.