That’s right – 13. Four smart phones, five IPADs, two laptop computers, and two Nook tablets/ereaders.
Can you imagine? And the grandkids know how to use every last one of them. And when I say the grandkids, I am including Micah, who turned 2 yesterday.
I’m dead serious. At one point he had in his hot little baby hands one of the smart phones and he was playing music using an app called Spotify. I’m presuming an adult originally connected him to the program (though I’m not convinced that is necessarily true), but once he had access, he knew exactly how to play the music and select a new song. So there he was, his little 2-year-old self, listening to the music coming from the phone in his hand, bopping his head in time to the music. WITH COMPLETE AND PERFECT RHYTHM. (I feel compelled to add that when a hip-hop or rap song would come on, his mom would grab the phone and move it quickly to the next song. Thank goodness. We don’t need those words to be among his first.)
When he would tire of a song, he would go to the next. I’m not making this up.
And Micah isn’t alone in his technological skill. When Jen’s grandson Austin was 2, he was playing with her smart phone. When he returned it to her, she noticed her phone icon was missing from the phone’s desktop. Somewhat panicked that she now had a phone from which she didn’t know how to make telephone calls (because we Baby Boomers need pictures donchaknow), she frantically handed it back to him and explained that she needed her phone icon back. He complied.
I’m asking again, can you imagine?
I, for one, know just enough about my smart phone to be dangerous. But I find the whole social scene around technology to be fascinating.
We were recently at a restaurant at which there were a large number of young adults. In fact, I felt a bit like the chaperone at my senior prom. Anyhoo, as I glanced around, I noticed that at somewhere around three-quarters of the tables, someone was looking at his or her smart phone. I watched one particular table at which a young couple, who I would venture to guess were just dating and not married, sat. The young man spent nearly the entire time looking at his cell phone. He would occasionally say something to the woman, and she would answer, but he didn’t look away from his phone. The thing is, she didn’t seem to be a bit distraught about this phenomenon. It’s the new reality, I guess.
I try not to judge. I used to get annoyed when I would take my grandkids to the park and look around to see nearly all the adults accompanying children looking at their smart phones instead of interacting with their children. But I don’t know their stories. My daughter-in-law pointed out to me that perhaps the adults are actually working away from home, and their presence keeps the children out of daycare. Who knows?
It’s all of no matter because smart technology is here to stay. And human nature is human nature. We now have instant access to information. I am as addicted to Wikipedia as the next guy. My IPAD is the first thing I grab in the morning. From it, I read the paper, I check on the activities of my kids via Facebook, and I post my blog. Yesterday evening I sent a text to someone who didn’t respond immediately and I was frustrated. Bill laughed at my impatience.
“This is what it’s come to,” he laughed. “We expect immediate access to absolutely everything and everyone.”
Nana’s Notes: You know by now that many of my blog post titles come from songs. Today’s title comes from a really sad song sung by the Carter Family. You can’t get any sadder than a lot of the old hillbilly music. That was looooooong before technology.