I was born into the generation of the post Depression Era babies. We straddled (and still straddle) two different times…the agrarian age of family farms, fields plowed by draft animals, hand cranked cream separators (a miracle of innovation for that time), coal oil lamps, and flour sack dresses…and the computer age that already post dates the first manned space craft to the moon…and back. (The getting back was the tricky part.)
I enjoy modern conveniences. I like my Hemi powered pickup, hot showers, hearing aids, cell phones, and Wikipedia. Although I edge closer to alternative medicine than traditional, I reckon modern medicine has save my life about five times now. And I am grateful. (Flu shot, anyone?)
But I miss the pace of the old world. We took time to visit with friends; we had picnics on the banks of the Rogue River; adults played board games (and sometimes included us kids); and kids got to go along on wood cutting and fishing trips. On the other hand, email from old friends is always welcome. And when I get a hunch I should check in on an old friend, I grab my cell phone. That’s all good, I think.
But when I see a group of school kids walking down the street, each with a super cell phone in hand, I feel a wee bit out of sync with the times. (The miracle is they seem to be able to multi-task…talk, walk, and text at the same time.) Maybe that’s just the generation gap I’m feeling? I suppose. Keep texting, y’all.