The Cries of a Lonely Anachronism

As an adult, I am hopelessly out of touch with modern technology. There were moments in my youth when I strived to be on "The Cutting Edge," but those days, like the digital age, have rapidly passed me by. In an era when most people get their news from The Internet™, I still find myself opening a print newspaper and frowning at the advice column. Admittedly, I have to walk farther to steal one since my neighbors gave up their daily subscriptions many years ago, but I think the point remains: I have failed as a citizen of the new millennium.



Evidence: I still use a land line. I don't have a cell phone, and I pride myself on the fact that I have never sent nor received a "text message." It is my private hope that I will hear the BEEP of my life-support system flatlining before ever hearing the BLIP (or worse, feel the BUZZ) of an incoming message from anyone, ANYWHERE. Especially while I'm at lunch, or worse, in a MOVIE THEATER. It's tiresome enough having to erase your voices from my answering machine when I get home from work, people-- I certainly don't need to be troubled with your lives while I'm out in PUBLIC.



I maintain that part of the reason I have been more successful creatively than many of my peers is because I don't waste my time "downloading apps" or whatever it is these kids do nowadays in lieu of collating zines or conjuring mix tapes or digging through thrift store donation bins. If there is something on the World Wide Web more life-affirming than any of these activities, I certainly haven't seen proof of it. Have you?