I read this article recently and I just couldn’t resist this topic today.
I am a bit fan of technology, have been since I assembled my first computer back the 80’s. I was born in the last generation that wasn’t born into tech dependence in America. I remember life before the Internet, laptops, cell phones. As I observe our species progression towards a society where tech is necessary to living your day to day life, I wonder whether or not we are preparing ourselves emotionally for this next evolution of our species?
We truly are stepping into a new frontier. The change is real. We are plugged into tech in ways that are altering our sleep and speech patterns. If you doubt me, look at the time stamps on many of your FB friends’ posts or think about how much sleep gamers get on average when they work all day and come home and play games late into the night only to do it all over again the next day. We make up words and make them verbs, Tweet, Google, Vine, etc.
What happens when you log out of FB for a week? Do you get the shakes? Did just thinking about it make you squirm a little bit? Can you eat a meal without snap chatting? Do you sleep with your phone by the bed? Is it the first thing you touch in the morning?
I recently downloaded a fitness app to my smart phone help me track my daily activity. Now I am hyper conscious about having my phone in my hand all day when I get up to walk. It feels like my app is tapping me on the shoulder and telling me to take the stairs whenever I approach and elevator. Holy BMod, Batman! When did my phone become the boss of me?!?
My least favorite thing is when I’m with my family eating a meal and at some point everyone whips out their Smart Phones (aka The Master) and all real conversation ceases. I sat at a table at a recent function where I couldn’t keep a conversation going because everyone was buried in their cell phones. You know, I should have added them all as FB friends or followed them on Instagram, then we could have had an ongoing conversation.
I guess resistance is futile.
Marta C. Youngblood