Personal Narrative- Fear of Technology
My grandmum spoke for us all that Christmas when she opened her gift from my aunt and uncle. She only half-unwrapped the box before launching it at my father across the room, crabbing “Now what in the hell am I supposed to do with THIS?” She proceeded to sulk, the way only my eighty-year-old gram can, arms crossed, lips pursed, but laughing the whole time despite herself.
My aunt and uncle had done the extreme disservice of buying my gram an answering machine. Yes, the woman who once told my sister that she never leaves my sister messages because “they never give you enough time before that little beep” was now the proud owner of one of those ...view middle of the document...
The microwave has moved three times with us, each time taking a little while to fit into its niche in our kitchens, like an old dog learning new ground. It has transformed from the new flashy thing in the kitchen (hated and scorned by the blender, oblivious to the food-processors of the future) into the elder statesman of our appliances. Not all of its faculties are what they used to be. The light bulb burned out sometime during the Bush administration, and since the time of my high school graduation in 1995, it has sounded more like a military air strike than a reheating machine for macaroni and cheese.
But have we gotten rid of it? Have we upgraded? Yes, but with tears, fears, and the overwhelming idea that because the microwave had not died, but simply ceased to function at full capacity, we were replacing a thing that has been respected and feared for nearly twenty years.
In my mother’s eyes, we may as well have bought a new grandma.
But we all know that it’s for the best, or at least that’s what we keep telling ourselves. Besides, the old microwave has gone to the break room of my dad’s workplace (we keep telling ourselves, “greener pastures, greener pastures”) and the new microwave is so high-tech it could raise your children for you, but at the same time it’s so easy to use that even my dad can operate it. See, it talks to you. Well, perhaps communicates is a better word. It send messages on a screen to you in electric green LCD letters. It will guide you through whatever it is that you need to cook or reheat or bake or pop or whatever. It not only has a popcorn button, but a popcorn...