I’m all for technology.
I guess most of us are, aren’t we?
What choice do we have?
Technology permeates virtually every aspect of our lives, from automatic doors at the grocery store to those little devices that we cannot put down.
The rockets that took man to the moon had the Apollo Guidance Computer on board.
It featured 64 kilobytes of memory.
Your phone has 6 gigabytes, which is 6 million kilobytes.
We’ve come a long way, baby.
But technology has robbed us of some things.
I read a couple of days ago where tickets for an upcoming event were all digital.
I have dozens of concert ticket stubs.
Prince, Van Halen, The Jacksons, Eric Clapton. The list goes on and on.
I keep them, among other things, in a shoebox in my closet. I get them out every now and then and look at them.
Every single one produces at least one unique memory.
It’s the same with sports tickets. I have my stub from the 1986 Sugar Bowl, the 1982 Tennessee-Alabama game, an Atlanta Braves playoff game from the ‘90s.
You can’t go back to your digital ticket and remember where you sat and who you were with.
Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you can. I haven’t been to a ticketed event in a few years, so I’m behind the curve.
But I know you can’t lay them out on your kitchen table and reminisce.
If you’re reading this in an actual newspaper, then good for you. You can still clip out this column and put it with all of my past Pulitzer-worthy efforts in your shoebox where you keep your memories.
But if you’re reading it online, how are you going to cut it out?
Seriously, though, we all have newspaper clippings we’ve kept over the years.
I don’t really think physical print media will ever go away completely. But I do know you can’t clip out an article about little Jason’s first place science project from an article you read on a website.
Yes, you can print it, but it’s just not the same.
As we all know, everyone is a photographer these days.
Take a wild guess at how many photos will be taken in 2022.
How about 1.72 trillion.
I wonder how many of those will actually be printed and put in an album.
I think we both would say not too many.
Unless I’m forgetting something, the last photo I had developed was when our kid graduated from college more than 5 years ago.
I honestly cannot remember the last time I wrote a letter — and I’m talking about the good ol’ “friendly letter” we learned how to format in elementary school.
I had a great uncle who lived in Texas when I was a kid. I always thought he was rich — and maybe he was — because he would send me $10 every year at Christmas.
Many years, it would go toe-to-toe with any other Christmas present I got.
But there was a catch.
Mama would always make me write him a thank you letter.
It was torture. Christmas vacation is supposed to be a joyous time.
But I always did it.
And I’ll bet he had a shoebox, and I have little doubt he kept those letters in it.