I am the antithesis of hip to my friends from home. I don't know current trends ("I like this song," I say. "You would. It was out last summer," they respond), and my tastes in entertainment are not typical (though not odd enough to be considered quirky). Always two steps behind, I try my best not to come off as a complete hillbilly to my Ivy League friends.
But it is not only my sophisticated friends from home who find me somewhat behind the times. Basically, this entire technological age is out of my grasp. I feel that I am one of the last remnants of the typewriter/rotary phone age.
Unlike my contemporaries, who seem to have been born with a mouse in their hands, I identify with the AARP type who is constantly trying to figure out why that darn error message keeps popping up on their computer screen. I don't understand why it's easier to write notes on a tiny computer screen than on a simple notepad, and I spurn those little pocket computers whose official name is completely escaping me right now. Pocket buddies? I don't know. The point is that I don't like them, I don't want one, and, perhaps more importantly, I don't think I need one. Odds are that I don't think you need one either.
I am the child of a home that was not only cable-free for most of my life (the only reason my dad finally caved in was to improve the reception, so my mom could watch Chet and Nat on the 6 o'clock news), but also fax-free, modem-free, Internet-free, email-free and, gasp, yes, call-waiting-free. I dealt with a 10-minute time limit on my phone calls to make sure that people could get through because my parents thought it was rude to put people on hold.
My computer skills were shoddy at best. In 10th grade, our typing skills were tested, and I achieved a whopping 18 words per minute. I handwrote most of my papers through 11th grade to avoid having to use our prehistoric Apple IIE and equally outdated printer, which printed semi-okay quality at the Olympic-level pace of three minutes per page.
When I moved west to Amherst, I ventured into new territory. With my very own computer, I prepared to enter the world of email and the Internet. My hallmates helped me set up my VAX account, and with great excitement I pounded out 18 words per minute until I had created my first email. I sent it to my friend from home. She sent back an email the next day-all in lower case. Assuming I had violated some unwritten rule of email by using proper punctuation and tabs, I quickly responded with an equally casual, all lower-case email. Of course, her response used upper case. The etiquette of technology eluded me.
Although I finally conquered VAX (and its big brother, UNIX), and daily AIM sessions and emails quickly improved my typing abilities, I found that the computer age had left me behind in other ways. For example, since my home computer had been an Apple, I naively ordered a Mac from the College. I soon learned that many fun worlds accessible via PC were either closed off to us Mac-users or were available via a path that was far too complex for the likes of me. Network Neighborhood was not to be part of my world. Nor were mp3s. Nor were snazzy backgrounds and Microsoft Excel. In addition, my Internet browser was slow, and my computer lacked many of the plug-ins necessary to view certain pages. Not understanding how to download things off the Internet, I sadly stared at blank screens where a QuickTime plug-in was required and went to the library to read the answers to my econ problem sets, which required the Adobe Acrobat reader.
Over the years, I have overcome a few of these barriers. Spreadsheets and pdf files still send me to the computer center or to a friend's room. But a few months ago, wanting to watch some music videos in my room, I finally downloaded QuickTime. Of course now none of the sites I go to use the version of QuickTime that I got, and I'm back to where I started. I've tried three or four times to download Adobe Acrobat, but after hours of clicking and waiting, I've given up. My guess is by the time I figure it out, there will be a Pueblo Juggler that makes Adobe Acrobat obsolete, and I'll still be behind in this technology race I never meant to enter.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not a complete Luddite. I like being able to email my friends rather than having to bother with correct postage, and email is a good way to avoid phone tag. I also appreciate the fact that from my room, I can quickly find information from any yellow pages in the United States or Australia. And I definitely approve of other modern innovations such as CD players and indoor plumbing. Even my parents have jumped on the technology bandwagon, recently purchasing an iMac, and I got to show off my computer wizardry for them when I showed them how to select the printer from the chooser and told my dad that he didn't need to double click on Internet links.
But sometimes I think people forget how quick and easy the telephone can be. And how irritating computers can be when they crash and lose hours of hard work. And how annoying it is for the computer to freeze while you're watching a DVD. And how writing something on a Post-It note and putting it on your mirror can be just as effective as using one of those little hand-held organizers. (Palm Pals?) Technology is meant to make our lives easier, but sometimes the red tape of "technological breakthroughs" makes me just want to go find an abacus. I don't think I'll ever be at the cutting edge of technology or completely understand why my damn Adobe Acrobat reader doesn't work, but then again I don't think I'll ever be hip enough for my friends from home, and we seem to get along just fine anyway.