Flying Solo

Okay, I'm not posting this blog in flight, but found this that I had written and never posted...

Food for thought... As our cell phones get smaller and our waistlines get bigger, is technology driving us into an unhealthy existence? These are the thoughts I ponder as I type on my Blackberry, listen to my iPod, and eat small bags of cookies on a flight.

Sure I love the convenience of modern technology, and the thrill of an electronic upgrade. But I also love chocolate cake and the occasional cigarette, and those aren't good for me either.

I hate to already sound like a crazy old bat, as I barely step into my thirties, but back in my day, you had to walk across the room to change the TV channel. And, back in my day, you had to pull over and walk up to a pay phone to make a call, back in my day you had to walk in and drop off film to see what your pictures look like. And you bought airline tickets at a travel agent, not over a computer!

I could go on and on, but my curiosity lines in how many unburned calories, fat, carbs, whatever you want to call it this week are kept on bodies due to the advent of modern newfangled technology? Would I be burning more calories if I were writing this in pencil? What if I had walked the length of the airport today, rather than taking the tram?

But let me guess, you think this is all hogwash because you exercise. You treadmill. I think the only difference between a human on a treadmill and a caged rodent running on a wheel, is the human is there by choice.

I'm on my slippery soapbox. Before I fall off and am forced to eat a plate of humble pie, because I too, am a technoholic, I have one more Tech rant... Internet dating.

People complain that now-a-days, "it's just so hard to meet people." What? The world is more populated than ever, transportation is better. You don't even have to limit yourself to meeting someone in your area.

Before I get ahead of myself, let's just trace our steps backwards for a moment. Our parents generation met potential suitors at dances and diners, our Grandparents met walking home from school and going about in the community…

So our Grannys dropped hankies and school books to get men's attention. Our generation and sadly the ones to come after us would scoff at assistance from a stranger and grab up the dropped belonging before the attractive person had time to finish, "may I help you..."

It's easy to spot the people who claim to not be able to find a suitable suitor, they are on public transportation, on their cell phones complaining about how hard it is to meet people, or blackberrying, or listening to their iPod, all while a hottie sits down next to them, then quietly gets off at the next stop.

Sigh, cupid's arrow misses again. Any techological gadgit in your ears or hands is the modern equivalent of a wedding band. You are spoken for, even if you're speaking for yourself.

So, if you're looking for someone, you've got to actually look. You’re less likely to meet someone staring at the ground or at a computer. If you're looking for someone, empty your bags and pockets of anything with a battery, and get out there. Even if you're not looking for someone, get out, liberate yourself of the tech gear, you might discover yourself.

Remember the phrase, 'stop and smell the roses.' Memorize it before it becomes, 'stop, take a picture of the rose, then e-mail it to a friend.'

This article would be longer, but I have to turn off my electronic device for landing. One day, that too, will change.

Side note:

If I were just a hair older, like say 80, and had earned the rights that come with aging, I would have rolled up my in flight magazine into a tight column, then spun my little blue headed self around in the seat with a raised eyebrow and crazed look in my eye and popped that little monster behind me on the leg while yelling, "quit kicking my chair, you little stinker, have some respect for your elders." Then I would have smacked the mother on the leg and say, "and shame on you for not stopping him. You should be skinned alive for neglecting to teach that child some manners."

But no, in your thirties, you have no rights, you tolerate it...and glare at the mother when you go to the bathroom.

Sigh, one day I'll be a crazy old bat. I can't wait!!!