Our children push and prod us into modern technology. Not that we drag our feet. After my first college course in computers, I insisted we buy a home computer. Their college years introduced us all to email. I opened an account and flooded them with emails. Working at the newspaper I had to keep up with technology. At his job, my husband embraced the efficiency of well written computer programs. We do not fear technology. Yet, when it came to cell phones, we did not see the need for adding that expense to our budget. Still our adult children insisted, “Mom, we want to know where you are and when you will get here. If you had a cell phone you could call us on the road.”
I rolled my eyes, shrugged and did not buy a phone. Goodness, my parents traveled back and forth across the continent with phone booth calls every day or so. Our ancestors traveled across the ocean and survived on sporadic mail service and our children wanted us to have a cell phone handy all the time.
Finally one of the children gave us a tracphone with a number that someone else had recently owned with their answering message still responding to the number. It caused enough confusion that our persistent geek spent a couple hours calling, talking and explaining until all the previous owner’s leftovers disappeared.
Despite my professed indifference, the technology caught my attention. As we zoomed down the Interstate, the daughter-in-love needed make a call. She called information, connected and took care of business without having to stop, find a phone, call the operator, write down a number or have enough coins to call. ‘
“How convenient,” I thought.
Eventually, another of our adult children declared our flip phone inadequate and gave us a smart phone with all the upgrades: camera, touch pad, Internet access and a healthy monthly bill. They paid the bill for a year.
The phone even had voice recognition. A very handy tool we discovered one day as we sat in the car planning a trip. My husband wondered, “How far is it to that city?”
I tentatively touched the picture of the mic and asked the phone its first question, “How far is it to …”
“Four hundred and seventy-eight miles,” the google lady quickly answered. It startled both of us. We laughed. We had expected an answer written on the screen as happened every time I typed in a question.
Oh, we relished our new toy. My husband has many questions as we drive down the Interstate. “Where did president Garfield live?” “What company designed …” any topic that pops into our conversation or his brain that needs an answerhe expects the smart phone to tell him including the traveler’s perennial “how far is it to…?” He asks that question a lot.
Initially the pre-loaded apps puzzled me. “What do I do with it?” I asked.
“Just try it.” they said.
I did and found all the time wasters.
Twice this past year we have been left with grandchildren as their parents flew off to celebrate 20th wedding anniversaries. One went hundreds of miles east. One went hundreds of miles west. Both called, texted and sent daily pictures to their children. I sent pictures of the children to their parents. If I had any questions, I could reach the parents quickly.
Thus, my original lack of interest in carrying a phone with a computer, camera, gaming system, Internet, newspaper and library changed. Now I am thankful for this annoying convenience and my children’s insistence that we join the 21st century and own one.