Technology, I [don’t] need you.

 

Technorati Tags: technology,break-up,flip phone,Blackberry,computer,television,metaphor

Dear Technology:

The last several years have been…  Well, I can’t say we haven’t had our good times.  But, things have to change.

We’ve had a long history, you and I.  Recall that, as a kid, my father loved you, and that he wanted me to love you too.  He introduced me to you through an electronics kit from Tandy, a square looking thing with various different wires and lights and other electrical looking doodads that could be configured in different ways to affect different results.  Recall that year in grade school, when Dad sat down with me and charted out what made you run, the “Talk,” which sounds as boring as its sounds.

And then, at grade school, I shared my knowledge about you with the other children, secrets which enabled others to access you.  They learned from me the right words to say to you to get you to say what they wanted you to say and to do what they wanted you to do. 

Technology, you and I have always shared a strange relationship. 

As I started to grow into a young man, I invited you into my bedroom in the form of a portal television, a gift from my parents.  I remember hiding out in my room, lying in bed, you plugged in the wall nearest to my bed, looking at each other for hours on end.

It was, at that time, enough for me, your little screen, your black and white images. 

And then, I left home, went to college, where I met you in the computer lab.  You were there with so many others, all lovely specimens.  We were professional at first, discussing only papers that I had to prepare for my classes.  But then, it turned personal when discussed on “boards” our passions.  And it was then you first chastised me, when I made the mistake of incorrectly associating work to the wrong musicians.  You were relentless in your criticism.  You shamed me, and I avoided you for a while.

But then I always came back to you, Technology.  We grew older, but not necessarily wiser.  In fact, it has become a corrosive relationship, a joinder of two addicts, two codependent persons.  I needed you to satisfy all kinds of needs, things I should have sought elsewhere, and, you, Technology, you were always there to supply me, a drug dealer with an endless supply of drugs.  I mistakenly thought what you gave was free.  I did not understand the costs.

You can’t be trusted, Technology.  My friends have told warned me about the horrors of your viruses and trojans.  But you are seductive, and you draws me in to participating in destructive behaviors. 

What’s worse is that you never forget.  You keep every momento of we have spent together, collected in zeros and ones, ready to be recalled.  And you are open with our relationship, prepared to recount to any one with the time of our time together.  I can destroy the images, clean out the browser, I can physically destroy your shell, but it’s always there, those memories.

You are constantly improving, growing slimmer, smaller, thinner, sleeker, willing to do more for me and to me than than the your older form. 

When you were just a flip phone, you were nice, especially because you could take pictures.  But you were slow.  And of course, you struggled with emails and calendaring. 

Then, you became a Blackberry, the darling of businessmen everywhere.  Suddenly, emails and your calendar were not a problem for you.  You possessed a full keyboard, not the traditional phone keypad.  You seduced me, and I bought you.  I even introduced your fellow Blackberry friend to my wife.

And then style was Android phones arrived, and, with the help of its friend, the cell phone company, I financed your metamorphosis into a smart phone. 

I loved your new body, but as time passed, I grew discontent with you, eventually coming to resent your limitations and faults.  By the end of two years, the average length of a cell phone contract, I ended up hating you were demanding that you change or move on.

I have not been faithful to you, Technology.  I have had the same type of relationships with my laptops, my email readers, and even my car. 

The other day I had a conversation with a friend who still possesses a flip phone.  You would like him, Technology.  He is a well-balanced guy, who enjoys gardening on the weekends.  He is always smiling, laughing when he can.  I miss smiling and laughing.

He has remained faithful to his flip phone, tells me it takes great pictures, that he doesn’t need all the new tricks. 

I envy him.