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The Digitization of Communication

“Julie, phone for you!” Announced my mother from the kitchen (30 years ago).  “Coming!” I yelled back, scurrying to the wall-mounted Bell phone with a curly cord that was always getting tied up in knots.  That was how I received a phone call when I was a kid. Sometime in junior high, they gave me a phone in my room – a diligently monitored phone, considering I had two sisters who liked to talk to their friends too.

My how things have changed.  Do we even have a clue who our kids are talking to?  Wait, I mean, who they are TEXTING? My parents knew who I was communicating with; there was no way to avoid it.  And if a call lasted too long, well, you can be sure I would hear about it.  And when I had a boyfriend in high school, I remember my father getting so upset that I had “tied up” the line for so long that he walked into my room and “ripped” the phone out of the wall.  Can our kids even comprehend that that was possible: to rip a phone out of a wall?! What on earth does that mean, they must be wondering.

You know you’re old when you start looking back at the “good old days,” reminiscing about this or that, the way things used to be, how much better some things were.  I can’t believe I’ve reached that point! I do think that some things were better back then and some things, like technology, are better now.  But with every advancement, there’s a price to pay.  With email, texting, voicemail, the Internet and other technological communication methods, we really never have to speak to anyone anymore.  At least not that often - or for too long. 

What about the written note or letter? What about our handwriting? Can anyone recognize you on the basis of your handwriting?  I doubt it.  I wish it were important to slow down and take a moment to write a note, with a pen and paper, not a keyboard or a smartphone touchscreen.  It’s all so impersonal and cold and digital.  We are lost in it.  The sensitivity of the human touch is lost on the screen.

But here we are, and we can only move forward.  I just wish I could sign this blog with my real signature, and not a digitized replica. 


JAK

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