I finally stepped into the new millennium and like everyone else I am truly connected. I finally bought one of those fancy new cellulite phones.
I’m not entirely new to the concept however. I’ve had one in the truck for a couple of years now, handed down to me from my wife. It had become somewhat of a relic however. It weighed slightly more than a bushel basket full of cow-paddies, had a range not much farther than just out of hollerin’ distance and quickly lost power a short while after being disconnected from the truck battery. You couldn’t use the dial with mittens or work gloves on anyway.
Now this new fangled thing is very different. It’s no bigger than a calf’s ear, and it will call out by just talking to it. It has a memory bigger and longer than a mad housewife and I can make calls home from almost anywhere I might wander off to.
I’ve had an addiction to fancy electronic gizmos for years now. From the old mechanical Beta video machine that weighed more than the TV with the family dog sitting on it, right to all the latest computer paraphernalia of today. I am hooked on electrons.
My dependency started early on with my parent’s old hand-crank phone. Crank the handle three times, long, and I could talk right to my friend up the road John. Four good hard cranks on it and I could call up Mike. Within minutes we would have the day’s activities organized and we were all, connected.
The habit draws you in then gets a firm grip on your daily habits and before you know it, it has a hold on your life. You get hooked and you crave more. Computer, big screen TV’s, X Box, anything you can imagine. You don’t really know how bad your electron habit is until one day, your world shatters and the earth crumbles around you.
It happened to me a couple of years ago. It was in the fall and for some reason I didn’t get my flu shot that year. Sure enough, two weeks later I had one of those computer viruses. My hard drive fried, my free flow of electrons halted and there was no way of getting a quick fix. It was the end of the month and all my bills were due yesterday. Somewhere inside the silent shell of my computer was my key to Internet banking and my electron fix. I was left cold and shivering, wondering how I had taken care of this nasty bit of business before I was connected, when it hit me. I used to write cheques and depend on the Posties to do the dirty work for me!
I rifled through sock drawers and junk drawers until finally I found an old chequebook that I thought might be the appropriate one. I then had to go through last weeks garbage bag to retrieve those return envelopes you get with your monthly bills, regardless of the fact you’ve been on-line banking for years. Slightly faded cheques went into somewhat stained envelopes and off they went to my mailbox, never to be seen again.
That problem solved, I was still in the need for my electron fix. Feeling cheap and dirty and somewhat haggard from withdrawal, I tucked my computer under my arm and stumbled into the computer repair shop. A sheepish inquiry got the resulted I thirsted for. Yes they could fix and even upgrade it to even better, faster electron flow!
For days I waited, pacing the floor like an expectant father. Sometimes I would carry the mouse around with me, it’s long tail dragging along, just so I could retain some usefulness in my right hand. Then finally just as I was starting to lose my dependency, my new computer came in, starting my dependency all over again.
I am thinking of joining a recovery group, but I believe, for me, it may be too late. I recently purchased a second computer for backup. Hopefully my sad story can help some young kid somewhere. Before it’s too late.