A Baby Boomer Comes of Age Again and Again

I remember when I got my own phone line in my bedroom.
A pink, princess phone with a cord just long enough to reach my pillow.
An ancient right of passage.

Busy signals, party lines, and parent's bellowing, "get off the phone" eventually were replaced by the beep of call waiting.

In the movie, The King's Speech, the impediment that might have remained a behind the castle -gate secret is broadcast live over the air waves thanks to radio.

Silent film actors, whose flickering, expressive faces
in black and white close ups
are catulpulted to stardom
then rendered speechless in talkies.

TV sets replaced radios.
Now my kids don't even own one.
They watch the computer.
DVD's replaced VHS tapes, TIVO replaced VCR's, On Demand replaced Netflix, Netflix replaced Blockbuster.

Why go to a reunion to catch up with old classmates when you can log on to Facebook?

Remember turning pages of a book?

Remember the feel of a glossy magazine in your hands?

Scrolling has replaced flipping.

Texting has replaced calling.

The wall has replaced email.

Twitter has replaced the AP wire.

Google has replaced the encyclopedia.

Spell-check has replaced the dictionary.

An e-card has replaced the Valentine.

I am convinced that I am the last generation to wash the black ink off of my hands after reading a broadsheet.

Gone is the blue ink stain on the inside of the middle finger.
I wonder if grammar will go the way of the palmer method? Who uses cursive anymore?

Phone calls to and from Europe were once considered an extravagance. My cedar chest is full of letters written on thin, onion skin stationary in envelopes stamped with Par Avion in red, white, and blue.

My scrap books are full of telegrams sent to me on the opening night of my plays. Break-A-Leg typed out on yellow paper with Western Union across the top.

My students now rehearse their scenes holding their droids.
I asked them to write down their notes.
Instead of a pen, they pulled out their cell phones.

I paused in wonderment.

Paper almost seems silly.

Remember when lap tops were considered portable?

Who needs one when you can pull out your ipod on the plane?

I remember growing up in Anaheim where Disneyland was just down the street.
The "Carousel of Progress" previewed the wave of the future - sleek, stainless steel kitchens with washing machines and dish washers.

Even Disney couldn't keep up with the rapid changes of this communication merry-go-round!

I'm still a Facebook hold-out. One of three I think.
But, like my parents who surrendered to the separate phone line for me,
I have embraced some of the new modes of communication.
Blogging has replaced journaling. It's easier on my pre-arthritic fingers.
Texting has become my communication mode of choice with my kids. An instant, in the moment connection.

But nothing will replace a good, long, deep, conversation, eye to eye, heart to heart, with old friends around a table where we can debate whether the tie will go the way of the hat.