Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Practicing Progressive

Tweet.

Recent days have brought a surprising increase in invitations of friendship from people who, I had always assumed, already were my friends. In addition, I have of late received similar requests from folk I barely know or, in a few instances, do not wish to know. By now any of you still bearing breath understand that I am writing of the cultural phenomenon that has captured the hearts and minds of 98% of the known world which, judging from the influx in offers of cyberspacial friendship, probably includes every person you have ever encountered in the course of this lifetime and the next

Previously, I had assumed that a “Facebook” was a compilation of villainous mug shots like those Dragnet’s Jack Webb displayed to innocent victims of a 10-32 or an 8-17 while telling them in his famously mundane monotone to “Just take your time, Ma’m, and see if any of these look social deviants look like the punk who stole your purse.”

Now, of course, I know that “Facebook” and its evil twin, “My Space”, are simply the latest means of communicating among those of us who wish to continue in some kind of relationship with the rest of humanity.

Those of us of wending our way through our 60s and, hopefully, beyond are constantly confronting similar existential dilemmas. In our quest to remain current with developments of the modern age, we are frequently faced with decisions of relevance. Our choices reveal our willingness to continue the quest. Many of us aging boomers can remember some of our more common communal whines: “What do I need an e-mail address for?” and “I’ll be damned if I’m going to get a cell phone!”, being two of the most frequently proclaimed. One can understand, I hope, the need for sympathy as we elders discover that we can no longer play our 8-tracks in the car or find a phone booth anywhere but displayed in dioramas in the Museum of Science and Industry.

I remember the first time I encountered someone using an earpiece for their cell phone. Along with 200 or so fellow weary travelers, I was waiting to board a flight bound, I believe, for Chicago when suddenly one gentleman in line turned to the wall and began loudly excoriating an invisible companion. Waving his arms and raising his voice even louder, the man in question was clearly evidencing the classic symptoms of schizophrenia. Why the others in line didn’t appear to be concerned over his bizarre behavior was confusing to me but I chalked it up to their psychotherapeutic innocence. I, on the other hand, was very reluctant to board the flight with this maniac. But just as quickly as it began, the madman stopped his antics and stepped back in line. When I recounted this frightening episode to my family upon my return home, they stared back at me in stunned wonderment over my utter ignorance.

The most frightening development of late for me is the introduction of e-book dispensers, those pocket-sized pieces of plastic and silicone that can take a beautifully bound 1200 page volume offering tactile, visual and even olfactory sensory pleasures and reduce it all to the size of a cell phone screen. I suspect such an evolution is inevitable, although it is hard for me to imagine inviting someone into my library where the walls are lined not with shelves stuffed to overflowing with lovely literary tomes but a solitary little gizmo that contains every book ever published. I just don’t think I want to be alive when that happens. Of course, I could change my mind if it becomes popular very soon.

And that, as I say, is the problem. It really is exhausting trying to keep up in a world that seems to reinvent itself every other Tuesday. I mean some of us are still grieving over the loss of WordPerfect for goodness sake!

Still, few of us are willing to align ourselves with Ned Ludd and his band of anti-progressive reactionaries. We’re just asking for a little consideration is all. A gentle warning before the next seismic cultural shift would be greatly appreciated. Maybe you could tweet us. Although I can’t for the life of me understand what good a bird call is going to do.

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