Stuck in the Future — Part I
My mother, who is nearly ninety, hasn’t done any of her own shopping for quite some time. But when she did, she always paid in cash. She said she liked the feel of crispy bills in her wallet. Debit cards are beyond her. PIN numbers are pointless. She’s used credit cards before—even ordered things “on the computer” (which has long since been demoted to “a friggin’ nuisance”). But the only way she would know how to pay for anything today is in cash.
I use my laptop daily. I e-mail. I google information. I sometimes shop online. I had to use a computer at my job—and frequently learn new programs. (Just as soon as I’d master the old one, the administration would find a better one.) But I don’t have a smart phone. I don’t Tweet or use Facebook or Instagram. And crypto currency is fascinating, but only in a science-fiction manner.
I stood in line in the grocery store today and watched as people shoved their cards into the reader, entered their PINs, got their receipts, and left with their groceries. No cash in sight. And I thought of Mom, who wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how any of this works. And I recognized that while I’m currently able to pay for groceries in a method consistent with the times, the day is coming when they will have to grandfather me through with my old fashioned debit card while the rest of the world moves on.
People already pay with their phones. I understand that in Sweden (and probably in other places I’m too slow to be aware of), many folks have microchips implanted under their skin just above the thumb and can simply flash a hand over a reader and Presto! The deed is done.
I guess it’s like the key fob for my minivan—there are no spikes and grooves to unlock the ignition. In fact, I don’t even have to take the “key” out of my purse. Just press a button on the dash and my car starts. Convenient. Until it fails. Then what will I do?
My awareness of these things causes consternation: Should I be hustling to keep up with all things technological? But the speed at which new technologies unfold is like a cheetah, compared to my three-toed sloth movement. I will never catch up. (I still pay my bills with checks sent in the U.S. mail.)
So, should I just relax (except for my grip on the old-fashioned debit card) and revel in the “good old days?” Like my grandfather, who came to respect the automobile, and even the airplane, but balked at the moon-landing and the Beatles.
He often reminisced about getting trapped in the coal mine where he worked—and his co-workers called to him, “Don’t worry Walter. We’ll blast you out with dynamite!” (He frantically convinced them not to.) Or the time he was walking home across a tall trestle traversing a body of water—but had to jump out of the path of an oncoming train and was rescued by a beautiful maiden in a rowboat.
My near misses don’t seem so colorful to me. But maybe they would to people born into this fast-paced tech world. Except I never posted them on Facebook. So, they will be lost, along with my grandfather’s stories. And crispy cash.
To be continued….