Technology. We lived without it for years and now when it fails we become bitter instantaneously. For instance, the cell phone misdials and I scream, “WTF?! This stupid piece of ….” Orion asked me if, when I was his age, I could’ve imagined I’d be reading letters, seeing pictures or calling my mother from a machine the size of my palm. “No,” I answered meekly, profoundly disturbed by my cruel and unjustified outrage. The poor little phone doesn’t mean to misdial. I love what that comedian said, the one who reminded us that the signals we initiate here have to travel to space before I actually get my mother on the line who’s only 10 miles away. We can have a little patience if it’s going all the way to space, can’t we? Or can we? I mean look what we’re asking this little phone to do? Talk about jumping through hoops, isn’t it amazing that the little phone finds my mother at all- and after having to go to space to find her? I shouldn’t be so hard on its occasional outbursts and failures, it works most of the time, doesn’t it? Besides, it really does add entire new dimensions and freedoms and possibilities to my life, doesn’t it? It’s like a new language even, now I can talk to more people in more places with less interference or delay, can’t I? So why do we have such a love/hate relationship with it?
I guess it’s because we think we need it. Once we’ve experienced all the deliciousness it has to offer we want it all the time. We want it on demand without interruption. We want it to respond to all our needs easily, quickly and with confidence. We want it to work unconditionally, at little expense to us, and with mighty gusto. It should never be sick or tired or broken or slow or lost or hard to operate. It should be clear, available, and perfect every time, just as it was when we first fell in love.