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The Cranky Codger: Smartphones: The Leash We Never Knew We Needed
My dear readers, today I invite you on a jaunt down memory lane, to the days of landlines, payphones, and the blessed peace of unreachable-ness. Ah, yes, the days when "out and about" meant you were free as a bird, unshackled by the iron chains of digital connectivity. Now, lest you think I've gone and turned into some sort of nostalgia merchant peddling sepia-toned yesteryears, allow me to come to the point. I'm talking, of course, about the smartphone—or, as I like to call it, the 'Idiot's Leash.'
Yes, yes, I hear the cries already. "But it's so convenient!" "I can't live without it!" "How else will I check if the moon is made of cheese?" To that I say: Codswallop. We lived just fine for millennia without being able to Google the nutritional content of avocados whilst waiting for a bus.
Remember when we'd actually engage with the world around us? When a cafe was filled with the sweet melody of conversation, rather than the staccato clicks of little glass screens? When walking down the street didn't involve dodging the smartphone zombies ambling around with all the self-awareness of a stunned mullet? Ah, those were the days.
"But what about emergencies?" you ask. Fine, let's talk emergencies. Our parents and grandparents seemed to navigate life's myriad crises without the aid of a GPS, a pocket search engine, or the ability to call for help while simultaneously updating their 'status.' Our ancestors hunted mammoths and established civilizations; I think you can find your way to the nearest petrol station without Siri holding your hand.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not a Luddite. (Well, maybe a bit, but who's counting?) I appreciate technological marvels. It's a wonder that we've crammed an entire computer into a device that fits in the palm of your hand. But must it also contain your soul? You see people at family gatherings, sitting in the same room, texting each other as if words have suddenly gone out of fashion. The art of conversation is dying, and the smartphone is gleefully digging the grave.
And let's talk about privacy, or the lack thereof. Your every movement tracked, your every preference logged, your every secret desire monetized. Smartphones have made Big Brother's job easier than stealing lollies from a baby.
So, what's the alternative? A return to carrier pigeons and smoke signals? No, although the thought does amuse me. Rather, let's practice a little restraint, shall we? Next time you're out for dinner, try putting your phone away. Look someone in the eye. Have a real conversation. Trust me, those cat videos will still be there when you get home.
But until that miraculous day when society comes to its senses, I'll remain that 'old fogey' who relishes the small joys of life without constant digital interruption. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a crossword to finish—and not on an app, mind you, but in a good, old-fashioned newspaper. How's that for a radical idea?
As always, stay cranky, my friends.
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