I have been hearing a lot of general discontent lately about the changing state of technology. It ranges from the impact of changes in the Windows operating system on accessibility issues to the advent of touch screens to the fact that a person can no longer go into a cell phone store and buy a simple phone that just makes outgoing calls. The grumbling comes from people with disabilities and people without disabilities, people who are young and people who are old. The crux of the matter seems to be that we want new features in the same familiar design, not too complex to use and not too difficult to find. Surely that's not too difficult to accomplish, is it...?
The real problem seems to be that we must create more work for ourselves... We don't really know how to be satisfied without being driven forward at breakneck speed. And so we keep going forward, ever faster. And at the same time we are desperate for time to relax, crying out for simplicity. We want more features in the tiniest possible piece of technology, buttons that can be felt but please don't take up so much space or make this too heavy... And oh, yes, do make it aesthetically pleasing! In fact, make it available in ten different colors!
Thinking about all these changes brings me to contemplate how grateful I am to have been born at a time when I could be cognizant of the amazing changes that have taken place in the field of technology. I am often amazed afresh at the impact this has had on my life. One particular incident stands out in my mind as testimony to the impact of the explosion of technological progress over the last 20 years.
I recall sitting in the car with my family one day during my senior year of high school on the way home from some outing... My sister was bemoaning the fact that her friend down the street had received an entertainment system for Christmas to put in her bedroom. Our family didn't have money for extra things like this. I had a stereo in my room that I had purchased with money that I had saved, and my sister had a little boombox; and we all went into the living room to watch TV. Mom remarked that it would be interesting to think of the things we would tell our kids someday when they whined--things like, "When I was your age, we only had one VCR."
My niece is 15 years old now. Perhaps she has seen a VCR... I'm not really sure. It wouldn't mean much to her if her mom said she only had one VCR when she was her age. My niece has a DVD player, a TV, an IPOD... Even CDs wern't in common use in 1989. We had no idea what was coming!
My first exposure to a computer came in 1984. It was an Apple 2E; and a floppy disk had to be inserted with the operating system on it in order to run the machine before turning it on. The disk really was floppy. Later, when I started using an PC with DOS, which was the precursor to Windows, those floppy disks were still in use; but there was an additional drive that was smaller and took a more durable disk. My desktop computer still has one of these small "floppy" drives; and I still have a few "floppy" disks. I am not geeky enough to keep an old PC with a real floppy drive--those spaces in my desktop are now taken up with DVD drives. I very reluctantly taught myself to use Windows in 2000. It was a change borne out of necessity. My old computer worked just fine; but the local Internet provider stopped providing dialup access that was compatible with DOS programs.
What all of this experience has taught me is that I must maintain an openness to what is new., even while I might have my own preferences. Those who have joy in life are those who know how to keep up with it as well as to rest. It is a challenging balance to maintain: neither to be driven by the need to keep up nor held back by the fear of moving ahead.