Friday, March 8, 2013

Stepping Back from the Grid

by Pa Rock
Cranky Old Coot

Is texting of benefit to mankind, or it is just one more drain on our time and attention?   Does it free us to accomplish more in our brief lives, or is it simply one more constraint – another strand in the leash that ties us to the grid and the constant roar of the world run amuck?

Obviously my biases are showing.   I am getting more and more disturbed with the notes, inquiries, goofy remarks, jokes, ultimatums, pictures of cats, and other drivel that pops up on my cell phone in the form of texts.  The older I get, the more valuable (at least to me) my limited time on the planet becomes - and I don't want to spend it trying to type drivel with my thumbs.

Texting is rude.   I like to sit on the back row, up high, at movie theatres.   It’s a personal preference dating back to the days when I watched movies from the projection booth.  But sitting on the back row in the modern age means that I am constantly distracted by the numerous morons checking their phones and answering texts during the show.    It is like watching twinkle lights on a gaudy Christmas tree.  And then there are those charm school dropouts who check their messages or text during meetings or conversations. 

Texting is dangerous.    Thousands of Americans have been involved in horrible automobile accidents because someone was texting.    People endangering themselves by acting in a stupid manner is their business, but when they are racing down the road in a machine weighing thousands of pounds, coming directly at me, while texting about the fur ball that someone’s cat coughed up, it quickly becomes my business.

I have already stopped responding to text messages, and later today I am going to drop my texting option with the phone company and have those annoyances blocked.    Anyone requiring my attention will have to go old-school and resort to calling, using email, writing a letter, or coming for a visit.   (And I faithfully promise not to check my email in a moving car or at the theatre.  My dumb phone does not even have an email option.)   I have texted my last – deal with it! 


Don said...

It's interesting to note the Email is now "old school."

At the advanced age of 68, I can still remember my grandfather railing at the ravages of modern civilization (he was absolutely intolerant of the television.)

And now I sympathize with PopPop. The electronic clutter than befouls our daily existence is mind-numbing.

Maybe PopPop was right!

Xobekim said...

It is like the Borg from Star Trek. Resistance is futile, you will be assimilated.

Sometimes I change accounts, it is like pruning in the Spring. Only the people I want to hear from get through to me.

Those I never hear from, or hear too much too often, likely get sheared.

And sometimes I even write letters, put them in an envelope, address it, and go to the Post Office to purchase the postage.