Why I shun txtng

The whole technological world is texting, it seems. Everyone keeps encouraging me to join the movement. Why don’t I text? I can send messages to people and they’ll respond even if they never answer their phone! My friends and I can exchange notes during big events, we can confirm arrivals and departure and such without having to speak a word, we can communicate all the time, about anything!

Well, that doesn’t exactly sound too good to me, a self-described introvert who, since embracing motherhood, has lost all semblance of time alone—my precious, jealously guarded time alone. I don’t know if I’m in such a hurry to participate in all those (often meaningless) exchanges. I could be finishing a thought. Or reading. Or painting. Or something.

And when communicating is so easy, it’s equally easy to make mistakes. Example: Recently, I spoke to someone who relayed a sad story to me. She’d been texting a person after they’d had a bit of a tiff, and the recipient responded curtly via text to the sender...and then said recipient foolishly dashed off another unkind, foul-mouthed message about the sender which was intended for someone else. But by mistake and in a hurry, thanks to modern texting technology, that still-ticked recipient also sent that second message to that same first person who’d angered her. Oops. Bet that wouldn’t have happened if they'd been talking in person, now, would it.

Regarding that whole emotion issue, that’s a problem too. When communication is quick and painless, it’s all too probable that things will be said that shouldn’t be. That’s my main complaint about email as well. Sure, it’s a great tool, they both are, but they’re so fast! If you’re a good typist, you can say something mean and inappropriate in writing faster than you can speak it aloud. How many inane, fired-up conversations have you had via speedily typed and sent messages? If you’re anything like anyone else, probably a great many. Texting enables poor emotional control and fiery temperaments. It does nothing to teach conversational discipline and maturity.

The fact that you can reach anyone, anytime, isn’t necessarily a good thing either. We as adults really shouldn’t be excited about the fact that many texted exchanges read a lot like a transcript of the conversations I had with my high school gal pals on the good old home telephone. We repeated ourselves, we giggled, we talked about some silly stuff and went on and on far longer than was necessary. We talked about the mundane, about the unimportant, about anything and everything. Is this an activity we should pursue for life? Hardly.

Remember, too, that I majored in English. (If you didn’t know that, now you do.) How could I possibly support any form of communication that further butchers the language that I love? How could I uphold a verbal means that has its own abbreviated, horribly misspelled code? How, I ask you? I can’t.

So, there you have it. Face to face is still my preference. You know I’m all about getting to the point and telling it like it is. I realize it is likely that eventually I’ll end up texting like the rest of you people, and then you’ll just call me a texter-come-lately. But I’ll hold out until there is no choice. Just like bill-paying, which I still do by mail unless forced to do otherwise thank-you-very-much, I will be the stubborn person clinging to the old-fashioned way. The more I learn about progress, the less interested I am in playing.

P.S. Want a chuckle, and a twist on the theme of avoiding progress? Visit this site and love it. Then go buy a box of Shredded Wheat.

Toys, and what they tell

These (pictured at left) are the sorts of toys that kids used to treasure. Long before Bratz, Transformers and Wii topped Christmas lists, plain old handmade playthings were the cherished items in a child’s world. I re-read some sections from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s wonderful Little House series of books, and was astounded to be reminded of that little girl’s joy upon receiving a little tin cup, a cake baked with white sugar, and a penny. Her very own penny.

It made me more than nostalgic; it made me ill. Not because she lacked so much, not that at all—but because we take so much for granted, and squander what we’re given. And it’s not just the thanklessness and wastefulness that’s horrible: we also don’t cherish much of anything at all, including each other. The toys were simple back then, and if one were lost (Laura’s rag doll disappeared for months after she was forced to give it away—she mourned ceaselessly until rediscovering it in a frozen puddle) then the kid simply went without, made her own toys, borrowed a sibling’s for a moment. Children didn’t have 25 other things to choose from. Perhaps the well-to-do kids had plenty of toys back in the day, but I’m fairly certain they weren’t electronic robots or dogs and cats that you plugged into a computer to care for.

Our modern grown-up toys aren’t much better. How many grownups with too much spending money stood in line for days, awaiting the release of the newest PlayStation? Or scrambled among other crazed shoppers, trying to secure the latest iPhone? Aren’t foolish amounts of money spent on boats, ATVs, snowmobiles? And those are just expensive toys, for most of us—I don’t know a single person who uses one of those items for income purposes or to assist in the management of a business. Sony is releasing a 120-inch television; hello, did anyone else out there read Fahrenheit 451? Remember the huge TV screens that made up a wall of one’s home? Sound familiar? And how many idiots will join a waiting list to buy one for their home theater systems?

After Christmas passed recently, I had to step away from the entire subject for a few weeks because this year, it went beyond reminding me of how materialistic and commercialized Christmas has become: I became inextricably immersed in the understanding that our entire culture is backwards. I hear this at church, and I know in my head it’s true…but when my heart truly grasps it, I just need to sit down and let the queasiness pass.

We’re seriously screwed up. Most of the time, in most households, our priorities are very misplaced.

And I’m no better. Here I sit, typing this pointless entry in an online journal that I don’t need, which does not support me and does nothing to forward the betterment of humanity. It helps me a little, helps me to organize thoughts, to rid myself of frustrations, but honestly, it’s no different from any of the other useless pursuits, toys or otherwise, that my fellow modern civilized folks are chasing. Being online? All it does is permit me to avoid people while still laboring under the delusion that I’m reaching out. Why are kids so into texting? MySpace? iPods? Those tools allow them to avoid each other, to stay somewhat removed from messy, risky personal involvement with anyone. We grownups are no different.

Back in frontier days, toys were simpler and life was simpler. Most time was spent surviving, so free time for adults was minimal, and toys for adults were likely unheard of, at least until the past century. Very few people made it on their own—teamwork was a must. Life spans were shorter; kids became adults much sooner. No one had time to try to create “time-saving” technology. Families waited for the children to become old enough to help, and then put them to work; no one was agonizing about whether or not they’d find an Elmo like Junior wanted, or whether the DVD they’d picked up for Little Miss had the extra features on it.

Is this progress, really? Yeah, people live longer. Yeah, I saw on PBS where they’re using stem cells to regenerate a dead rat’s heart in some lab in Missouri. Yeah, that’s amazing. But is it progress? Should we be proud of a civilization that has advanced itself enough to support people in need, but chooses instead to upgrade versions once again? Or even worse, agonizes over which scripted reality star is targeted this week? I have a hard time imagining life in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s time; I have an even harder time trying to imagine how disappointed she’d be if she saw what we’ve become in such a short time.

Is it only me? Or are some of you concerned, too?