Kyle City Limits
by BRENDA STEWART
A colleague of mine recently made a brash statement about his “old brain theory” concerning not being able to teach folks of a “certain age” much about computers and their applications. Their brains just aren’t wired that way. Won’t make the jump. Can’t, ahem, compute. I bristled.
It made me think, though, about a field trip we took when I was in elementary school and seeing this computer the size of a Volkswagon housed in this freezing metal room and we were told that this was the “wave of the future.” I think they called it Hal or something. I punched my name into a keyboard and it said “Bah Ren Da” and we all gasped. Magic.
But that was about it for a while. All the way through college we were pounding out our term papers on Selectrics and looking things up in World Books, the Yellow Pages and street maps. Licking stamps to mail our bills.
My kids, on the other hand, grew up on my lap as I toiled away in front the Mac. They had electronic “lap tops” with picture books which mooed and sang. In kindergarten, computer instruction was sandwiched next to ABCs and recess. They are wizards on the computer. Actually bilingual in terms of this totally foreign technological language they rattle off in response to my question about how to open a zip file.
But what cracks me up is the on-line shorthand that has been somehow universalized. Like cul8r (see you later) and YY4U (too wise for you). I liked BMTIPG (brilliant minds think in parallel gutters) and the sardonic DAP (parents against dyslexia). Clever.
In retrospect, though, we had our own acronyms way before the Urban Dictionary. We scoffed at the offer of ABC gum (already been chewed) and avoided the bum who only smoked OPs (other people’s cigs). We asked you to RSVP and then BYOB and rolled our eyes at PDA after which you might should XYZ and wondered if you got your degree from MSU (making stuff up) because it was getting PhD (piled high and deeper) so, cut the BS. Our love letters were SWAK until some loser came up with SWAL-CAKWS (sealed with a lick-cause a kiss won’t stick). And that ended that.
So, I guess my colleague is correct in some regards. This old brain has selective memory and, regardless of the quick access to the world wide web beckoning me from my computer screen, I still instinctively reach for my old Websters. And from what I understand, this is referred to as “Book Googling” these days. I am so uncool.
So, 10Q4 your time. And, ::poof:: (I’m gone).
