Technobable

Recently, I went on a vacation to Aruba.  It was exactly as you might imagine Aruba to be;  warm beached, crystal clear waters, friendly people and rum-based frozen drinks.  Essentially, it's paradise, and for anyone looking to get away, I totally recommend it.

Except for one thing.

I had no wifi.  We were far, far FAR away from home, and other than at my hotel, I could not access the internet.  And the price of texts or phone conversations was at a premium, keeping communication to a minimum.  Initially, I wanted to embrace this detachment from technology, and welcome the silence that resulted from a useless rectangle of plastic and computer parts that once was my phone.  But it soon became achingly clear how much I relied on instant access to information, and how lost I was without it.  I found myself asking questions like "how will I know where to meet you? (texting)", "how do I know if that restaurant is good?(yelp/tripadvisor)", "how do I know where to go? (google maps)".  My daily experiences are all in some way affected by or benefit from my tether to technology, and I actually felt isolated without this connection.

What's interesting is that I haven't been connected for that long.

I was born in 1984, so I consider myself to be part of what I like to call the "intronet" generation.  Those of us who grew up during the late 80s and early 90's experienced a transitional period before the internet became the all-powerful driving force it is today.  It was a very interesting decade to experience, and I'm grateful to have a clear memory of rotary phones and land lines as much as I do of Juno and AOL.  I realize that older generations experienced this transition as well, but I think the younger you are, the more open you are to change.  And the intronets were all about it.  We had grown up with limited communication, and we were excited and enthralled by instant messaging and email correspondences.  We couldn't believe that we could talk to our friends through computers.  We were constantly wide-eyed and amazed by every new development, and so much of it happened so quickly that we were forced to adapt and grow along with the technology.  We learned a whole lot in a very short period of time.  

And sometimes I wonder if we have forgotten where we came from, and how lucky we are to have access to the whole world whenever we want it.  We are so fortunate to be able to experience so much, and it has become a kind of access that we take for granted.  Just remember when, people, just remember when...

The day I returned home from Aruba, I remember turning on my phone after exiting the plane.  I saw three bars.  I had wifi.  I felt instantly relieved and comforted.  And then, for just a moment, I realized how strange these feelings were.  How could so much of my life be connected to something so small?  At what moment had this change occurred?  Was it necessarily negative to want instant contact?  I think it's easy for people to say that we are "too reliant on technology".  In many ways, it's true.  But maybe it's not a bad thing.  Maybe all that it represents is a basic human need to be connected to those around us, and a desire to be a part of something larger than ourselves.  There are so many wonderful experiences that come from this connection, and so many opportunities that might not be possible without the ability to access and share information instantly.  If anything, during those "no service" moments, we need to let go of resentment and frustration, and simply be thankful for all that we are able to do.  There was a time, not so long ago, when none of this was possible.