The Edge of X

In 2012 I did not want a smart phone. And it’s not because I’m a technophobe. A phobia is a fear. This was a genuine disinterest. I didn’t want one and I didn’t need one. And then I married an Apple man. He dragged me into the AT&T store and said “We’re getting you an iPhone.”

Inevitably, I began the process of becoming one of “those” people constantly on their smart phones. Bit by bit I became that person who compulsively checks my Facebook, weather app, and email. Oh, I’d do the occasionally scaling back on Facebook, once even axing 70% of my “friends” and I’d secretly pat myself on the back for it. (By the way, if you think that cool girl you graduated with and had barely spoken to since middle school won’t mind being unfriended, I’m here to tell you that she will. Surprisingly, she will. And as you walk up to her at a high school reunion she’ll scream “Christy Braselton! You unfriended me on Facebook!!”)

Oh right. I’m making a point….

The point is that it’s a tricky thing being born at the tail end of a generation, specifically Generation X. And being bullheaded, it’s easy to turn my nose up and believe my childhood and young adulthood was somehow more valuable because I used postage stamps and freely made prank calls in an age before caller ID. If I was driving in a new area and couldn’t find (or unfold) my giant State of Texas map, I had to pull over at a gas station and talk to a human person with a face and everything. There was no text message that could rescue me from the awkward, nerve-wracking silence when talking on the phone to a cute boy. And later when I lived in a dorm, alas, I was without social media to bemoan the existence of my Mickey Mouse-obsessed roommate who was enraged that I used “her” toilet paper that was in our shared bathroom. Instead, I had to get up, walk across the hallway, and gripe to a friend who didn’t suck.

A while back I met a younger acquaintance for lunch and she casually referenced how we both used MySpace when we were in high school. I met her words with a blank stare.

“Lindsey, I was born in 1978. I didn’t have my own computer until I was a senior in college.”

She glanced up at me from her Instagram.“Oh,” she said and returned her focus downward at her post, continuing to show me how it works. I continued pretending to care about it.

I often struggle to connect with younger people because our upbringings are so drastically different. Our shared experiences are few. And I will confess that I can be judgmental and skeptical. It’s something I’m working on.

That being said, I have much to learn from Millenials. I’m trying to settling into that truth. Yes, I do need to get on board with technology because I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that the internet is not going away. Undoubtedly, I will be asking the next generation for help as I do my best to embrace social media, blogging, domain names, etc. I’ll learn about plug-ins and other fancy things. I won’t like it but I’ll do it.

Just please don’t make me be the girl with 5+ hashtags after every single Facebook post. Please. I just can’t deal with it, guys. Or if you do, at least meet me for lunch first and give me some really good reasons. Teach me.

And do it without your Instagram.