We are truly in the age of technology. Whether it is the latest social networking site or the next brand of phone/gps/music player/go-go gadget, in an ongoing pursuit to ease our lives, we, as a society, are addicted to the “Age of Robotica.”
Being a computer geek, I pride myself on my ability to maneuver with technology’s changing curves. I am typing this very article on Netbook, a miniature laptop – very chic, very popular, highly technological. I love gadgets so much that, in my youth, I prayed for the machines on “The Jetsons” to become a reality. Disappointingly, society has yet to mass produce the flying car or robot vacuum; and moving sidewalks only exist in airports. I provide this explanation to validate myself as a tech junkie, but there are scenarios in which I refuse to rely on technological advances ... the realm of romance is one example.
In many ways, technology has heightened the love experience. The cyber-incredible advance of e-mail has made paying for a postage stamp in order to communicate with a loved one obsolete – unless you are in prison. Technology has changed the landscape of dating services. Before the advent of the Internet, one had to answer obscure paper ads and hope the person selected didn’t get confused by the letter legend (I meant to put SWF, not SBM). Now, all one has to do is log on to eHarmony, take a test and let the CPU do the searching.
I don’t believe that these tech advances have necessarily hampered dating. But what has utterly destroyed the dating stratosphere, as we know it, is the advent of one of the most popular, yet most annoying, tools in history: the text message.
The text message has become America’s poor excuse for courtship. Complaints involve significant others who would rather text message the day away via their Blackberries than call to confirm a face-to-face meet up and hear the voice of the person they admire. There is also the cardinal sin of dating: asking one out via text message. I urge any victim of this to not only say “no,” but to banish all notions of interest. I know we live in an age where chivalry is dead, but we must have proper protocol for matters of the heart.
Now, I’m no Casanova, but I understand that actions speak louder than words. And taking time out of one’s busy day to bask in the aura of another says, “You matter in my life.” Constantly using the text message as a prime means of communication says, “You matter to me just about as much as ordering a pizza from Papa Johns.” (Actually, the pizza order takes longer.)
One may genuinely care for a text message recipient, but the truth (no matter how truthful) gets locked in perception, which becomes truth, at least for the one with the perception.