I am getting old. There was a time when I would have dreaded this realization, but life has a most wonderful way of making aging more acceptable to those who are going through the process. Things that used to seem so important now seem rather inconsequential. Take new technology, for example.
My mother is old. She will turn 80 in September, and I used to chide her for not using the computer she has available in her apartment building. She says email and browsing are confusing. She knows how to type, but finds keyboards and mice beyond her talents. She doesn’t own a cell phone and relies on a land line and an aging answering machine for communication. Today she sent me a very short email message asking for my snail mail address so she can send me a letter. Too funny! I know how difficult it must have been for her to do that. She could have simply phoned, of course, but she knew that email would get me to respond faster than a voicemail message, which is totally correct.
That got me thinking. When I am 80 (should I live so long), my daughter will think I am even more old-fashioned and out of touch than I used to think my mother was. In fact, she might already think that of me. I don’t tweet. I don’t follow. I’m not on YouTube or MySpace. I am on FaceBook, but I don’t use it much, and certainly not to announce to the world what flavor donut I ate this morning or such personal minutia. I know how to text message, but I find it a hassle. I refuse to get an iPhone or a Droid or any other mobile device that does much more than make phone calls. I prefer my PC to a laptop or notebook. I have no interest in Kindle or iPad. I have never downloaded a ring tone or an iTune. I couldn’t tell you the difference between 3G and 4G. I still have a VCR and a DVD player, but no TiVo or DVD-R or Blu-Ray. My ancient TV isn’t Hi-Def, flatscreen, or LCD.
How different from when I used to feel the need to be the first among my peers to get an 8-bit home computer, WordStar software, a Daisy-wheel printer, a Betamax, a handheld VHS video camera, a home fax machine, and a Motorola mobile phone. Thirty years ago, I was considered an early adopter. Now, I’m getting old, and apparently one advantage of being a senior is not needing (nor wanting) the latest technology in my life. Perhaps I am starting to understand my mother a bit better. Life is okay unplugged. I am actually looking forward to receiving her handwritten letter.
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