Audrey Piehl
Arts & Entertainment Editor
It’s a widespread assumption that anyone born in, or before, the 50’s or early 60’s cannot even fathom the grandeur of modern technology. Texting, tweeting, tumblr-ing, instagraming, it all seems lost on their aged minds. However this stereotype is perhaps less influenced by reality, and more a reflection of how a younger generation wishes to preserve their childhood.
In a way, my parents’ lack of savy with technology is beyond irritating. I wish I had a dollar for everytime I’ve explained copy-and-paste to my mother. Not only that, but we are a self-proclaimed Apple family, making copy-and-paste possible with a simple drag of the mouse. While my father can seemingly solve any electronic dilemma, his low texting rates and lack of Angry Birds on his iPhone reflects a certain “ancient” quality.
Though I have conveyed my teenager-y frustration through many rolled eyes and strained vowels, when my mom attempted to enter the civilized world via twitter, I got a nasty knot in my stomach. While my sister and father were in favor, both having a twitter of their own, I was strongly against. Something about the idea of my mom tweeting, or simply reading tweets, was beyond revolting. It felt like devouring my childhood favorite, tuna fish on toasted wheat, amongst the graffitied cement buildings of a strange metropolis. It was wrong.
I think we represent our older generations through technological ignorance because we want to. Plenty of people over the age of 45 are more than capable of harnessing the concept of Facebook; even my grandmother uses email for work. But while incredibly convenient and entertaining, iPods and Droids have nothing on old-fashioned childhood innocence.
While mine consisted of a few primitive computer games and later a video game or two, I characterize my early years through playgrounds, my mom’s bagged lunches, and the expansive lawn outside my elementary school. I don’t want my mom to tweet because “tweeting” is something for celebrities and “edgy” youth. Not for my mom, lounging on the couch, examining Emril recipes.
And yet she has just now shared a particularly hilarious tweet by Steve Martin, and I’ve lost this battle versus “growing up.” It seems being a real-life “catcher in the rye,” or slightly less radical Thoreau, is simply impossible in a world embracing every technological innovation with ease. At least Mom is still incapable of navigating iPhoto; there is hope yet!
