Retro-Grouch

I am a crusty ole fart when it comes to embracing all the new technology that changes hour to hour now. Ten minutes ago it was I Pod with 2 giggle bites of memory. You could store 14,000 songs on this little box and stuff it in your shirt pocket. Hey cool. Now the little I Pod box holds 50,000 songs and you can hang it off your earlobe or stuff it where the sun don't shine.

This is really cool and state of the art. But I wonder what the Hell good is it? In order to store the 50,000 songs, you have to have a computer to download them from and it has to take some time. Before you can do that, you have to have a file of songs to download from. And these must have taken some time to download to the computer you use to download onto the IPod. Add in the time to edit, collate and pick your nose, and the time spent setting it all up probably took 10 hours out of your modern, always in a hurry, lifestyle day.

Me, I listen to one CD at a time. Just like the vinyl I used to listen to. I am pleased that CDs have made this simple operation even simpler. No careful placement needed of the needle over fragile plastic grooves. Just stuff that CD in a slot. It magically disappears and music comes out clean and pure. Technology basically stopped here for me. I need go no further.

But I will. Kicking and screaming. The world has me tied to the back of the wagon. I have no choice.
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My daughter calls the other day. "Dad, there is something wrong with my cell phone."

"Uh, okay. Are you using it right now?"

"Well, yeah."

"I see. You seem to be coming through crystal clear here in Maine."

"No, Dad. (picture exasperated daughter voice like I am an idiot) "My Text Messaging does not work. I can't text my friends. I need my Text messaging."

Need? Entitlement? Can't live without it? Right.

So I did what any father confronted with the dilemmas of youth would do.

"Wait a minute. I'll go get your mother".