I have become increasingly worried for my children’s reliance on technology. I watch them on ‘play’ dates as they compete on Clash of Clans, make complex collages on Pic Monkey, or spend hours pushing a flapping bird through a small opening. What ever happened to party lines and light as a feather? I have outlawed certain apps, but realize it’s only a matter of time before they exceed my knowledge of technology.
I should mention I work in technology.
Certain apps have positively impacted my world. I no longer get lost every time I leave my driveway thanks to Google Maps. I don’t need to wait in line at my favorite new restaurant because I made reservations through Open Table. But there are times I long for the feel of a mixed tape in my hand where Pandora’s icon now sits. I used to go out for a run and assume I was Flo Jo. Now, the Map My Run lady whispers in my ear that it took me 11 minutes to run a mile. She’s judging me; I can hear it in her voice. I would also like to assume my dinner of Brie, Nutella and Chardonnay only had 300 calories. My Fitness Pal tells me otherwise.
Some pal you are.
I inquired with a few friends on apps they can’t quit. One friend immediately wanted to know if his porn app counted. Gone are the days teenaged boys wander gas stations buying an acceptable amount of candy and Chapstick to sidetrack the checkout lady while shoplifting Playboy. Back in the olden days, you bought a magazine or hurriedly chose porn from the back room of a Blockbuster. Now you go online and select various genres, including gangbang, cream-pie, and facials (though I assume this is not the facial I receive at my salon).
I do love social media apps like Facebook and Instagram. They allow me to be a socially acceptable stalker. Previously, I would just stand in people’s windows at night, which always made them uncomfortable.
Last week, I saw a Facebook “friend” of mine in real life. I was at Target and hadn’t seen them in years. Naturally I high-tailed it in the opposite direction, hiding in the feminine products aisle until the coast was clear. I later logged on and liked all of her vacation pictures to rid myself of guilt.
Tinder is a tricky one. It astounds me that singles today can select someone in their general proximity to talk (have sex) with. It is the electronic ‘black book’ for lazy people: not only would I like to have sex with a stranger of my choosing, I won’t travel more than 3 miles out of my way to do so. GPS locates you and presents a plethora of equally languid people in your area. Because of the relative anonymity technology provides, all of my single girlfriends have received penis from Tinder. One rather prominent friend in the legal field laughed, “Have you any idea the amount of cocks that pop up on my phone during meetings?”
Gentlemen, if a woman wanted details about your penis pre-sexy-time, they would stalk one of your ex-lovers on social media and ask her.
My husband and I also rely on Yelp a great deal to help us decide where to eat. We excitedly login and are presented with options near us including American, Thai, and Chinese. We can see pictures, detailed ambiance descriptions and ratings from other consumers. Or as we like to call it, Tinder for foodies.
I realize technology is here to stay and it will become easier for my children to procure everything from pizza to a spouse with the touch of a button. I pray by the time they are grown, apps like Tinder are as uncool as my daughter thinks I am now.
Julie Scagell – I am new to the writing game. I am a working mom of 3 kids and find humor everything.