Monday, August 25, 2008

In an Instant

Cara set me up with an IM service before she left. We practiced for a few minutes, but it was frustrating. She was at her lap top tapping away, and I was at my desk top, and I was saying "Slow down! I'm still typing! I can't keep up with you!" Altogether, a frustrating period, and I thought to myself, "Yeah, this IM thing? Not going to like it." But when a daughter is going away and is looking for ways to keep in touch with you, well, you take what you can get.
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Saturday night, she called. When she was 13, she was a junior counsellor at a local church camp. She met a boy. I remembered him. Vaguely. We discouraged this very strongly. She was a child, after all. I knew that they had e-mailed, off and on. He lives about 40 minutes from the university. He is a corrections officer. They're both grown-ups now, and after this back and forth, on and off correspondence thing they've had going on through the years, he showed up to take her out to dinner, bringing a dozen yellow roses for her. He's coming back to watch Charlie Wilson's War with her and her room mate. Her room mate is yet another camp counsellor, so they are all acquaintances.
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I listened to her chatter and asked questions, and at the end of the conversation, I said, "Instant message me at some point tomorrow, so that we can make sure I know what I'm doing." "I did that today," she said. "I wonder why I did not get it," I mused in that confused way I do when I'm talking to Cara about computers.
"Mom, you have to be logged in," she tells me.
Huh. Who knew?
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Yesterday, I dumbed around, found the link, and got myself logged in. I talked to Jeanie. Oh, it was very exciting. Real, live back and forth conversation. I kept thinking "How strange that I am talking to someone in Australia! The wonders of technology! Who'd have dreamed it?"
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In the midst of my marvelling, I was had a flashback. I remember my grandpa sitting in his kitchen, having coffee out of his heavy white mug with the blue inside, marvelling about the fact that he'd never believed for an instant that he'd watch men walk on the moon. "Holy rastafied!Who'd have dreamed it?" he said, marvelling over the wonders of technology. Holy rastified. I've no idea what it means, but it was the only epithet that I ever heard pass his lips.
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Dear heavens. I got a glimpse of my long gone grampa. I am him.
Holy rastafied.

7 comments:

jeanie said...

lol - holy rastafied?

To think - when I was a child, communications was about being on a party line booking trunk calls or a letter in the mail.

It really wasn't that long ago.

I have the opposite problem (as you are now aware) - I stay logged in but am nowhere near the computer some days!!

rhubarbwhine said...

I have 'Trillian' a left over from when I was an ICQ addict. I don't think I have turned it on in over a year....

Scotty said...

"Mom, you have to be logged in," she tells me.

Huh. Who knew?


*chuckle*

Debby said...

I don't need you conspiring with Cara to make me look foolish, Scotty. I'm perfectly capable of looking foolish with no help at all, thank you.

Shirley: Trillian? Is that a game? I don't do games. Computer games have bored me stupid since the first time I watched men with glazed eyes playing 'Pong'. I can get in enough trouble with blogs, e-mails, internet, and now Instant messaging.

Jeanie - I know that I'm going to have to limit myself.

Scotty said...

Conspiring? Moi? Perish the thought, Debby; it just made me chuckle is all.

I hope I didn't give offense, Debby; if I did, I do apologise.

Debby said...

No offense taken Scotty. I'm actually pretty good natured about my untechnological self. If I ever did get offended, I'd probably mention it to you flat out. I can't imagine that it would happen.

Mikey said...

Lol, know the feeling. I suddenly find myself saying all those things I never thought I'd say, like "Because I said so"
If someone had told you 10 yrs ago what you'd be doing now, you'd laugh and say "No way...." yet here we are