My grandmum spoke for us all that Christmas when she opened her gift from my aunt and uncle. She only half-unwrapped the box before launching it at my father across the room, crabbing “Now what in the hell am I supposed to do with THIS?” She proceeded to sulk, the way only my eighty-year-old gram can, arms crossed, lips pursed, but laughing the whole time despite herself.
My aunt and uncle had done the extreme disservice of buying my gram an answering machine. Yes, the woman who once told my sister that she never leaves my sister messages because “they never give you enough time before that little beep” was now the proud owner of one of those “damn things.”
Gram is the head of my family of almost-technophobes—by the “almost” I mean that we’re not so much afraid of the changes new technology brings, but we’re often afraid of changing our technologies. Perhaps it’s procrastination or stubbornness or raw fear, but there’s a reason we only just now got rid of our microwave, which made its first spectacular appearance in our lives in 1991.
I remember the day my mother, finger wagging, told us of the dangers of opening the door while the microwave was still running. Her point was not that it would be harmful to us, but rather that it would hurt the microwave, as though after being opened mid-cook, it would simply lose the will to go on. “I’m sorry,” it would say, “but why bother cooking anything for you people anymore? I mean, it’s not even cooking that you do with me, I just reheat the creations of other appliances— you’ve failed to use the ‘Quick and E-Z’ cookbook to simplify your lives and make hearty meals in a jiffy. You only use me to heat water for your kids’ hot chocolate, and...
... middle of paper ...
... to take over the TV such that we would only able to tune in Emeril and Martha Stewart, to the poor answering machine, who would tell callers that if they wanted to talk to the family, they’d have to clear it with the microwave first.
That’s not entirely different from what my own current answering machine does anyway. While my grandma has learned to adjust to hers, I’m still not entirely sold on mine. The answering machine in my apartment has a woman’s voice, soft but computery, the kind of voice one could imagine HAL’s wife would’ve had. It tells me very politely that “there are no new messages . . . Jill.” I imagine it will soon begin to dispense advice on my social life, explaining that I am a young, vibrant woman who should have messages. I imagine it will tell me to start by doing something to my hair, telling me it never really like my curling iron anyway.
Need Writing Help?
Get feedback on grammar, clarity, concision and logic instantly.Check your paper »
- Growing up with Technology Born in the eighties, I entered a world of big hair and bad style. In the technological realm there were tape players, VCR’s, and fresh on the market: personal computers. Apple was domination the computer scene with their introduction of the Lisa computer. But not for long, soon computer technology would jump to unimaginable heights. As I grew up the technology around me would continue to grow and advance – quite rapidly I might add. My first encounter with computers (as far as I can remember) was when my next door neighbors got their very first Apple.... [tags: Personal Narrative Papers]
1139 words (3.3 pages)
- Personal Narrative- Bicycle Crash I used to bike often with my friend Juan in my hometown of Aguascalientes, Mexico. In the narrow streets, a heavy flow of traffic make biking treacherous. Certain streets have traffic signs saying, "CEDA EL PASO A UN VEHICULO" which means "Let one vehicle go through at a time." I biked on the right side of the street and my friend Juan biked on the left side. On our trip to buy tamales Juan and I were supposed to cross an intersection with a "CEDA EL PASO A UN VEHICULO" sign.... [tags: Personal Narrative]
565 words (1.6 pages)
- My Fear- Personal Narrative Every child, teenager and adult has experienced anxiety, fear or worry at some time in their lives. Everyone has their own phobias. Some are just temporary whereas others just linger, haunting them forever. Life allows us each of us to experience challenges in our own way. But when these challenges become almost impossible to complete, they become long term problems. When faced with fear, one looks for the easiest route out, but in my case, there were no signposts.... [tags: Papers]
730 words (2.1 pages)
- Personal Narrative- Driving Test As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself.... [tags: Personal Narrative Essays]
1369 words (3.9 pages)
- Personal Narrative- Destruction of Nature If you ever get a chance to visit Chaco Canyon National Monument in New Mexico, you should take the time to just stand in the desert and listen. The silence in this place is physical; you can feel it surround you. This is a silence with depth and layers that are unbroken even by the wind, which moves through emptiness and speaks only in occasional sighs through the canyons. The air itself is very clear—the lack of humidity gives the cliffs and buttes sharp lines, and the colors of the earth, though muted, stand in stark relief to the blueness of the sky.... [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]
1625 words (4.6 pages)
- Personal Narative- Tough Girl She went to the land of Hollywood with a diamond wedding necklace hanging loosely from her neck like a noose before it gives its snapping goodbye. She went to the land of dreams with pride coloring her shadow; a haughty swing of her thick plait; and why not. Her name was Serina –she was named after a dream. Why not. I thought, though I cried the night before because she got the chance bestowed to her curvy hips, her white Colgate smile, her crystal blue eyes. And what about me.... [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]
1367 words (3.9 pages)
- Personal Narrative- My Laptop Writing technologies have been shaping the way people live since the beginning of time. In the Stone Age, our ancestors used tablets to organize important thoughts, keep track of daily activities, and pass on their knowledge to future generations. Arguably, their method of writing was inefficient as much effort was being put into carving and preserving the tablet, while the end result contained little information relative to its size. As technologies evolve, we have refined our methods of writing and have come up with newer, cheaper, and more efficient ways to communicate.... [tags: Personal Narrative Essays]
511 words (1.5 pages)
- Personal Narrative- My Dream I picture myself center stage in the most enormous and fantastically beautiful theater in the world. Its walls and ceilings are covered in impeccable Victorian paintings of angels in the sky. A single ray of light shines down upon my face, shining through the still, silent darkness, and all attention is on me and me alone. The theater is a packed house; however, my audience is not that of human beings, but rather the angels from the paintings on the walls come alive, sitting intently in the rows of plush seats.... [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]
582 words (1.7 pages)
- Personal Narrative- Car Accident Disappointment, disbelief and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, sandwiched between the cold, soft dirt and the hot, slick metal of the car. The weight of the car pressed down on the lower half of my body with monster force. It did not hurt, my body was numb. All I could feel was the car hood's mass stamping my body father and farther into the ground. My lungs felt pinched shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. My mind was buzzing. What had just happened.... [tags: Personal Narrative Essays]
983 words (2.8 pages)
- Personal Narrative – Atheist I didn't ask for the pastor to come over. I would have much rather been left alone to watch daytime TV. True, I was beginning to feel I little isolated, but some sissy-voiced holy man I hardly knew wasn't going to make me feel any better. But it was standard policy to notify the church when one of its fold has been hospitalized, for prayer requests and all that mush, and when the pastor heard that I was already home, he felt obligated to visit, as if seeing my swollen, drooling face was somehow doing me a favor.... [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]
1169 words (3.3 pages)