We enjoyed our annual trip to
Hazleton to visit our friends who live there. I also use the time while in
Pennsylvania to do some research into the history of the area, and the people,
as I’ve been working on a story that takes place in the northeastern portion of
that state.
During past trips, we’ve
visited various museums and historical areas connected to the boom times of the
coal years. We’ve also ventured to Gettysburg, and the Civil War museum and
State Capitol building in Harrisburg.
We’ve gone to the haunted jail
in Jim Thorpe, taken a tour of the Lackawanna Mines (though I declined to go
underground with my husband and our friend) and have twice visited Steamtown
USA—the national railroad museum—in Scranton.
We’ve driven through what’s
left of Centralia, the borough that became deserted after the mine fire that
began burning beneath it in 1962—and is burning there, still.
It’s interesting to get to know
a region, little by little over the years. My husband and I both think the area
we go to is coming back a bit from the worst of the recession of 2008. Our
friend, who has lived there all his life, assures us there are still those who
believe the mines and associate industries of the region’s boom times will come
back—just as soon as everyone gets over this silly Internet craze, and trying to
import new businesses into the area.
It’s taken me a few years to
understand that there really are people who actually think like that. Of course,
we know that technology never—in the history of the inhabitants of this
planet—has ever gone backward—starting with fire, and the wheel. Maybe it will
happen one day. Maybe we’ll come up with some form of technology that seems
good, and isn’t, and in fact threatens us so badly that we will ban it all
together from the face of the planet.
But I’m not holding my
breath.
In essence, the truth is that
technology in and of itself isn’t good, and it isn’t bad. The only “good versus
evil” is found in the souls of the people who use the technology—and in what
they use it for.
I consider myself pretty savvy
when it comes to the Internet, the programs I use for writing, and the social
media scene that I’m a part of. Not bad for a woman who will never see 60 again.
There are some, older than I, who are also computer literate.
Of course there are a lot of
people who aren’t. My brother is one. 10 years my senior, he doesn’t have (nor
does he want) a cell phone. He has no idea of the uses of the items that are
displayed on the cover of the Best Buy catalogue, and he barely surfs the web at
all. His wife is one up on him there as, while she will never own a cell phone
or an e-book reader, does look everywhere on line to find her
amusements.
My brother doesn’t understand
the allure of Sudoku games at all.
Spending time with our friends
in Pennsylvania just underscored this divide in thinking. Our friend is a bit
younger than us and quite Internet savvy. His mother, of course, a woman in her
eighties, doesn’t understand the attraction, nor does she want to. They have
satellite television now, a new innovation he convinced her to try because it
was more cost effective than the local cable company. I’m not sure how many
hundreds of channels they have available to them. She—our friend’s mom—will
travel between the same five or six channels she knew on the cable system. And
that is all.
She also gets quite annoyed
when her daughter and family come over to visit because they are on their cell
phones constantly—texting or updating social media, instead of actually
visiting.
Having experienced such a visit
from them while we were in town, I can understand the older woman’s annoyance.
But again, that has nothing to do with the technology and everything to do with
the people using the technology.
Mr. Tuffy accompanied us to
Pennsylvania, as did our daughter. He traveled well, again, and was a perfect
gentleman while visiting. He clearly remembered the people and the place from
last year—and that following our friend when he went out to the kitchen was
certain to net him a tasty tidbit.
All in all, a good time was had
by all.
Love,
Morgan
No comments:
Post a Comment