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Not too long ago Brother #2 told me #1 Nephew had a girlfriend, with whom he spends a lot of time texting. Why don’t they use the phone, I wonder; it seems to me the voice is a far more sufficient means of communication. Brother #2 educated me #1 Nephew and peers prefer texting to calling, which they do continually. Apparently their little thumbs manipulate the keyboard as fast as they can talk. This bewilders me and makes me feel old to boot.

We have at our fingertips (literally) instantaneous check-in abilities twenty four hours a day. I am slowly growing more used to texting. This is an amazing confession coming from a man who bemoaned the passing of letters, of which I was quite fond.

It is curious to consider with whom I text vs. e-mail vs. call on the phone. Phone calls are for those folks older and less familiar with tech stuff, and/or with whom I am more intimate. I never think of texting a person in distress or in sorrow – I call. I telephone my family members, and when I want a serious or more in-depth conversation with somebody.

Text messages seem more for friends and family far away and less connected. I suppose I think of texts as cheaper than calls (do they still have long distance?) I text bloggers and Scruff buddies – chums I enjoy chatting with but have never met. Texting seems more spontaneous, more superficial, and shorter in duration. The grammar is abbreviated. It is amusing to have several text conversations going at once; something I would never do in ‘real life’.

E-mails seem more formal, for ‘business type’ interactions and communicating information, or for creating a ‘paper trail’ – there’s an outdated statement! My e-mails go towards folks less connected. Letters have evolved into e-mail, not into texts.

Facetime calls are jolly good fun. I am sometimes not too comfortable with Facetime as I don’t know what I should be doing during the call. I feel Obliged to be somehow entertaining or put on a show. Facetime feels the most like a phone call, which makes it not preferable to the phone, as on the telephone I can look awful, be in the bathroom or bed. I can converse without awkwardness. Facetime makes me think of “The Jetsons” where Mrs. Jetson runs around while the ‘phone’ rang putting on her mask to cover her curlers.

Someone jumps a bit whenever he hears Facetime ring – is the house in order and – more important – are we in only in undergarments? (or less)

I vote for throwing everything away and returning to dixie cups connected by string.

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August 2012

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