Carriage returns and bells
We live in a connected world. Or maybe a disconnected one. All a matter of perspective.
After all, that little device that keeps you in touch with the rest of the world is, so I’ve heard, addictive. How many “Crackberry” jokes are required to make something true? I don’t have one, therefore anything I say is purely observational. But, in my immediate office area, there are eleven ring tones and six people that may or may not answer the summons. Do the math, folks.
CBC presented some anecdotal footage, proposing that cell users and text addicts may not be aware of the world around them. The alternate reality offered by their device is personal. No big deal if you’re walking (and don’t fall down a manhole). Dangerous if you happen to be in control of a vehicle: trains, planes, boats and cars all need a pilot who is in control.
I felt a moment of nostalgia when the segment presented a therapy session that involved typewriters. If your kids (if you) don’t know what that word means, time to head for a museum, or a local office with tight budgets. Imagine, a mechanical device that sends raw mail (not email), replete with errors unless you have great manual dexterity or an endless supply of correction tape.
I had one of those; a mighty Underwood with a bell (no, not a ringtone). At the end of every line of text, I was required to do something (we referred to it as “carriage return”) or my ability to continue would be compromised. If only the modern cellphone required such concentration.
