Sunday, January 17, 2021     Volume: 21, Issue: 46

Santa Maria Sun / Humor

The following article was posted on November 25th, 2008, in the Santa Maria Sun - Volume 9, Issue 37 [ Submit a Story ]
The following articles were printed from Santa Maria Sun [] - Volume 9, Issue 37

I Google, therefore I spam

Krider is drowning in all the new technology


Because I was born with male reproductive parts, I have an uncontrollable attraction to gizmos and gadgets. I love any stupid thing that has a secret compartment or a carabiner hanging off of it for no good reason whatsoever. Part of the blame for this is James Bond. Every man wants to be like Bond, and if we somehow get our hands on a spy-type gadget—like a watch with a removable magnifying glass—that means we are just that much closer to hooking up with Halle Berry.

I love things like little 4.0 gigabyte thumb drives shaped like pocket knives, and I’ll take anything with GPS attached to it. I’m such a sucker for extra gadgets, I’d buy a toilet seat with GPS if they had one.

Since I like gadgets so much, naturally I am a junkie for new technology. The only problem is, technology is moving at such an insane pace these days that I am having a tough time keeping up with it all. You see, in reality I only truly love the technology that I can comprehend. Anything I can’t comprehend turns into a keyboard-bashing vulgarity fest. For instance, when my anti-virus/spam blocker software is more of a hassle than a virus or spam itself (I hate you Norton!), I think that technology sucks.

Some of the newer technology is tough for me to comprehend. I used to be on the cutting edge—now I’m not even cutting it. Don’t get me wrong, I still Google, text, and forward. I just don’t HD, iPhone, or Blue Ray. (If you were lost by all of those previous examples, you’re probably still perplexed by the invention of the remote-control garage door opener.)

I’m slowly losing my grip on technology, and I blame my kids. They are sucking all of the technology comprehension from the house. Obviously, there is only so much of it to go around. They are using it all to make their Nintendo DS games Wi-Fi and text one another messages about how stupid their dad is. Recently, I caught my grade-school-aged kids both laughing hysterically at some funny pictures they drew and then sent to each other electronically, depicting their dear old dad picking his boogers. I didn’t even know they could send messages or funny pictures back and forth on their game consoles. When I had a Nintendo Game Boy, all I could do was play Tetris. I was happy stacking up different shapes. I didn’t have the ability to talk to my friends who were happily stacking up their own shapes two houses away. And what would I have said anyway? “Cool Dude, you made an awesome stack of shapes! Hey, you want to go sneak into the theater and watch Ghostbusters?”

Even though I don’t want it to happen, I am slipping into the dark hole of technological ignorance. I remember when my grandparents couldn’t set the clock on their VCR. I thought they were so stupid. Now, my kids think I’m the stupid one because I still have a VCR and I don’t understand how a Wii works without wires. Sorry, I grew up as a part of the Wire Generation. Sure, I was around to see some fantastic technology come out, but everything was connected with wires. My entire bedroom was nothing but wires hooking up different electrical do-dads. Wires equaled success. Wires were how we found things. Without wires how will we ever find the Wii controller? (In my house, it turns out, we probably won’t.)

I realized I had fallen into the techno-unknown when everyone around me was using BlackBerrys and I was still using a “regular” cell phone. One night, a buddy of mine and I were arguing over some ridiculous statistic. To settle the argument, he pulled a BlackBerry from his pocket and quickly located the all-important, argument-winning facts. (It turns out he was right: Wikipedia confirmed that Alf only ran for four seasons.) I was dumbfounded by his ability to get information so quickly. I don’t have the Internet in my pocket. If I wanted to use what was in my pocket to find out worldly facts, I would have to use my cell phone to call my father-in-law, who is a walking almanac. Problem is, since my father-in-law is one generation behind me, he doesn’t even have a cell phone, so I couldn’t get a hold of him anyway. So much for phoning a friend.

I want to be “down” with all of the new techno-gadgets—it’s in my James Bond-loving DNA—but I just don’t have the time to figure out 15 different menus or buttons for every new electronic device. I understand my “regular” Stone Age cell phone and I use it well, so I’m pretty content. I can order a pizza, take a picture of a person walking by me with a mullet, forward that hilarious photo to my friends, text my little brother and call him a “fart knocker,” tell you what time it is, leave myself a little note that says “remember to steal a ream of paper from work,” and download DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince ring tones (not that I would, I’m just saying I could). Clearly, I understand my phone. I just don’t get the iPhone.

I’m going to press on, though. I don’t want to be left in the analog world as the digital one moves on without me (and finds better ways to distribute porn). And who knows? Maybe when the new James Bond movie hits Blockbuster, I’ll be ready to rent it on Blue Ray.

Rob Googles himself often—not because he is technically savvy, but because he is an egomaniac.

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