It hurts me to have to say this. It really does. In the beginning, you were so exciting. I couldn't get enough of you and just being around you was intoxicating. We had some great times. After a while, though, something happened. I don't know, maybe it was me. Maybe I just couldn't keep up. Maybe you just became demanding. Whatever. The bottom line is you no longer make me happy. I'm sorry it's come to this, but, Technology, you and I are through.
I'll always remember the first time I saw you. I was just a kid, walking through the Sears store. And there you were. The most amazing thing I had ever seen in my life. Pong. It was love at first sight. I stood there, my mouth agape, and stared. I could not even conceive of how such a thing was possible. It was some kind of enchanted alchemy. It took me a while to get my hands on you, but, once we got together, the romance was real. Soon we were playing hand-held football games that consisted of red blips. And before I knew it the Atari 2500 was there. PAC-MAN! Space Invaders! Asteroids! Missile Command!
We started seeing each other everywhere. Every pizza parlor had games like Joust, Galaxian, Centipede, and Donkey Kong. Every television suddenly had cable and MTV! We were having such fun. Then, in college, the relationship turned serious. A friend introduced me to the Apple II personal computer. A computer that sat on a desk! We stayed up late playing Zork and talking about our future. Computers, we knew, were going to revolutionize everything. Our professors theorized that computers were going to save so much time that in twenty years everyone would be working 24 -hour work weeks. Paper shuffling, filing, typing-- all these office jobs would be done instantaneous. Not only that, but with the ushering in of a new Information Age, we would soon have at our fingertips the sum total of mankind's knowledge. Each one of us would, in essence, be a walking genius.
The VCR. Oh my god. I remember buying my first VCR for like $800 and when I brought it home I thought it was the greatest purchase I ever made in my life. Suddenly I could watch any movie anytime I wanted-- just by driving to the nearest video store! It was a wonderful time, but things were changing fast. As soon as we enjoyed something together, you were on to something new and more expensive. The Commodore 64 became the Commodore 128 became the the Compaq Portable 486 PC. I maxed out my first credit card, around two thousand dollars, for that first IBM clone. Of course the Pentium chip was released two months later rendering it obsolete. It was a race to keep up with you after that. Windows 95 became Windows 2000 then XP then Vista, then 7. My gaming consoles went from the Atari to the Genesis to the PlayStation to the PlayStation2 to the PS 3 to the PS4. AARRRGGG!
We started to disagree on music. You didn't like my album collection. First you wanted 8-tracks then cassettes for the car. Then it had to be CD. You told me I needed to replace my entire vinyl collection with CDs. Then you made me start downloading files for our Mp3 players. The music sites changed hands constantly, though, and we kept losing the licensing for a song, so we'd have to buy it again somewhere else. Then you told me my VCR was obsolete. I needed a DVD player. Then quickly thereafter a Blu-Ray player. Then a flat screen TV. Then a smart TV. You even made me get rid of the camera I had used for over thirty years. No, my Canon AE1 was no good for you. I needed a digital one. Which was quickly replaced by a new one with more megapixels. Which has quickly outdated for yet more megapixels, which was replaced by my new--
Phone. Don't even get me started on the phones. Cellphones were a wonderful invention. They were a little more expensive than my $9.99 pink princess corded phone with the $25 long distance plan. But portable communication that fit in your pocket? Great idea—except it didn't last. Soon a flip phone was obsolete. You convinced everybody they needed a QWERTY keyboard phone. Then a Blackberry. Then a smart phone. Soon the little phone that used to fit in your pocket was a ubiquitous computer screen that was permanently attached to everyone's left hand. Suddenly family gatherings consisted of a dozen people seated in the same room but staring at their own individuals screens. Public gatherings, sporting events, bucket list adventures. These were no longer experienced directly but filtered collectively through the lens of a smart phone. If a tree fell in a forest but wasn't shared on social media via a smart phone—did it happen at all?
Then there were the trust issues. Secret passwords were cute at first. Until they were everywhere. Accessing my bank account, my bills, my television, my phone, clocking into work, checking my pay stub, reading the news all suddenly required a password. And not just any password. You required a number and a symbol and a minimum amount of characters and sometimes you made me change it every month or so on a whim. And when I got confused, you got angry and made me jump through a million hoops and made me feel like shit. Secret passwords then became secret symbols became secret images became secret patterns that became secret questions that often I could not answer. Slowly this whole relationship was beginning to feel forced and strained.
Then you started bothering me at work. I'm a manual laborer, a meat cutter, babe. You had no business in my workplace. First it was a fingerprint scan to clock in. Except it always seemed to take three tries to get it right and “punching in” went from an instantaneous snap of the clock to a three-or four minute ordeal. Then came the scan gun. Gradually, everything I did at work required electronic permission and validation. I could no longer walk out to the case, see what had sold and go back and cut it. No. Now you required me to log into a computer program (with multiple passwords and user names) print out a production report which I usually ignored anyway, then scan every thing I cut as I did it. Cleaning grinding, safety—all these these suddenly needed electronic government tracking. I now find myself starting at a computer screen as much as I do my knife. And, let me be honest, your work ethic sucks. Half the time all I get is spinning wheels and flapping flags. If I took as long to boot up as you do, I'd been fired a long time ago.
And speaking of wasting time... Let's talk about our social life. Facebook? Twitter? Instagram? Some of your friends, man, I dunno. Racist, intolerant, ignorant and holier-than-thou. How did we end up spending so much time with these people? And why do we care what they think? Why do we spend so much time trying to impress them? Have we really become that shallow insecure and bored? All these outrageous lies, snarky memes and angry rants... What kind of bonding is this? It seems to me that we are just driving everyone further apart and spreading poison and anxiety.
For something I no longer enjoy, I have to say, you've become very expensive. High speed internet, cell phone data plans, Netflix and Amazon Prime, music streaming, e-books, apps, video streaming, game subscriptions. Every time I turn around, you have a hand out. To continue listening, viewing, reading, please upgrade to premium now! Subscriptions to various newspaper and websites. The constant upgrading of hardware. You're suddenly adding to the cost of everything from appliances to homes to automobiles. Do I really need my refrigerator and car to talk to me? Do I really need Alexa to play some Rolling Stones? Because the album, eight-track, cassette, CD and mp3 are just too hard now?
In fact, the more I think of it, the more I realize everything you've given me is an illusion. A mindless diversion from what really matters in life. You promised me time-saving. You gave me time-suck. You said you'd eliminate paper and now I'm drowning in it. You promised a short work week and now I have to work overtime to pay for all my tech. You promised me a medium in which to stay in touch and now I'm worried what the world thinks of me. You promised the Age of Information and all I see is fake news, extremist point of views and an endless stream of drama and trivia.
No, technology, I'm afraid this relationship cannot be salvaged. You've hurt me too much. So I'm claiming my life back. You know, real life. Grilling in the backyard. Hiking in the wilderness. Face-to-face conversations. Board games and paperbacks. No, you had your chance and you blew it. So I'd really appreciate it if you took your gizmos, do-dads and devices and just left quietly.
But, if you don't mind you can leave Netflix and Spotify behind when you go...
