Monday, August 10

My Technological Pet-Peeves

I like technology. I like having a microwave to nuke three hot dogs in 25 seconds. I like having a washing machine to do the two loads of laundry I need to get done every day. I like having baby monitors so I can eavesdrop on my children discussing in great detail everything that is wrong with me (Really! They actually do this!). I even have a cell phone.

I don't have text messaging. I used to, but I got rid of it. I can't stand receiving frequent messages with no regard given to spelling or grammar. Not that I am perfect, but I make an effort. I would get messages from my employees that read "im gonna B L8". It's like playing some twisted version of Mad Gab, except that it is very important that I decipher the code. Or, while Mum was babysitting for me, I would send Mum a text messages inquiring how the children were doing. The response back would be "Happy Birthday" or something equally ridiculous. Apparently, there are standard replies that one can just click on, which she would in her attempt to answer the text message. So, I got rid of text messaging.

Facebook baffles me. What's the point, really? Lisa D. signed up for Facebook and wanted me to check out what she had done. So, I logged on as Dan and made her one of Dan's "friends". I made all sorts of hilarious/snarky comments on her "wall" (?). She called me right away and told me that everything I wrote would be sent to Dan's friends and family! OOPS! In order to still be able to comment to Lisa without all my thoughts having to be censored, I created my own Facebook account with one friend: Lisa. I thought this would be the perfect solution. Wrong. All of a sudden, I get requests from old friends, from practical strangers, from people that don't even particularly like me, to be "friends". My mother even invited me to be her "friend"! I decline all invitations even Mum's. I don't even check out Lisa's Facebook anymore. If she wants me to see a picture of her kids, she emails it to me. If I want to communicate a message, I call her. The old-fashioned way.

Twitter, I have decided, is for the incredibly vain. What on Earth makes you think that I would like to hear every thought you have, the moment you have them? I don't care if someone I know (or worse, don't know) is having lunch, is going out, or is bored. Unless it effects me directly, keep it to yourself. I have yet to read one Twitter or Tweet or whatever it's called that I thought had some merit. I have recently found out that Dad has a Twitter account! That cracks me up! I would actually read his "tweets". I could link him up to my blog and name it "Profound Thoughts and Wisdom From William R.". So, go on Dad, get tweeting!

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