We are living in a
most interesting age. Never, in all of
humanity, have we been as technologically advanced as we are now. We have an International Space Station, we
can Facetime with anyone, anywhere, at any time. We can transmit millions (even billions) of
dollars from one location to another instantly.
Remember that song you heard the other day and absolutely fell in love
with? Search for it, buy it, download
it, and in 2 minutes, probably less, you now own it-forever! The next generation will wonder what a CD, a
mix tape, a Filofax, a floppy disc, or an 8-track was.
Yet, we are living in
a paradox. All of this technology is astounding
in the areas of medicine and healthcare, for example. As a race will we ever have to worry again
about the black plague or scarlet fever? However, what has this constant
connectivity done to our thought process, our expectations of each other and of
life in general? What has it done to our
souls? We only need to logon to Facebook
to read captions such as “what happens next will blow your mind!” or “This [man’s,
woman’s, father’s, mother’s, daughter’s] reaction will leave you speechless!” It’s like we want the cupcake and only want
to eat the icing, every single time. We
want the best of the best, the rawest of emotions, and the very core of a
feeling. We want it in high resolution,
with a deeply moving soundtrack and perfect lighting. We want it to be quickly downloadable and
shareable.
Will this generation
know the joy of receiving a hand written letter from a dear friend or relative?
Will they experience the feelings that come from reading their handwriting and sensing
the emotions in their penmanship? How
about the unexpected “long distance” call from a faraway loved one, the
surprise at hearing their voice, not knowing who may be calling during those days
before caller ID. For as much as we’ve advanced,
I feel we’ve lost some of life’s simplest pleasures, the ones that elicit
genuine emotion.
Sure, we’re connected
on Facebook, Insatgram, Twitter and Snapchat, but are we really? Does my “liking” the picture of your new
couch convey the same sentiment as my paying you a visit and commenting on what
a wonderful choice you made, how well it goes with your home? When was the last time you went over a friend’s
house for coffee or to a play a board game, remember those? The countless hours of our youth spent
calculating how exactly could we buy Park Place.
Interestingly enough,
there is a resurgence of all things antique and vintage. Everything old is new again. We are longing for genuineness in our lives,
items with a sense of history. How many
Great Gatsby parties have you heard of recently? We want to relive those exuberant days of
yore. We’re yearning for something tactile
to make us feel less computerized, less predictable, and less robotic.
Recently, my husband
and I moved into a new home, our very first home which (through great sacrifice)
we purchased together. We live in a
rural area of South Florida and, I’ll be honest, we were worried as to how the
neighborhood would welcome the new gay couple on the block. I’ll tell you what they did. Our neighbors on one side, an elderly American
couple, brought us a beautiful planted orchid a week after we moved in. Upon delivering it, they said “Welcome to the
neighborhood, we hope this helps make your house a home.” Our
front door neighbor, the retired soldier from Alabama and his restaurant-owner wife,
brought us her famous coconut-rum cake along with mangoes and avocados from
their back yard. Since then, we’ve all continued
to share homemade treats with one another, a bottle of guava preserves made
from guavas on my family’s farm in exchange for a couple jars of mango butter
and strawberry jam. It may sound
very “Peyton Place” but what it actually is, is real. These individuals took the time out of their
busy lives to think of us, to make something with their own hands and share it
with us. It involved zero technology. There was not one emoji to be found.
Am I guilty of succumbing
to technology’s embrace? Absolutely. However,
I try to achieve a balance. I mainly
listen to public radio and do not watch much TV. We only recently got cable, and we opted for
the most basic package, about 70 channels total. I get my news from the radio when the BBC
announces their hourly updates. My
husband and I anxiously await Saturday’s broadcast of Prairie Home Companion
and challenge each other by playing along to “Says You” after that. I bake a loaf of banana bread every
Sunday. I make my own pasta. There is a sense of comfort that can only be
achieved with these tasks.
So, the next time your
friend updates their status to inform you of their latest accomplishment, surprise
them with a visit and something homemade.
Granted, it takes more time and effort.
However, I’d like to think that when I’m old and gray (although the gray
is well underway already) that those are the moments I’ll look back on. You won’t be able to hold on to the 73 “likes”
you received on your Facebook picture, but that handwritten card you received that,
that you will be able to clutch close to your heart forever.
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