Let me preface my rant with some pertinent information. For almost a decade I worked as a Software Applications Developer for a government contractor in the DC Metro area before relocating to New Hampshire in hopes that my son's medical problems would be eased. They were. My wife works as a Software Engineer for a government think tank in Massachusetts and we have no less than three computers, not including my wife's company laptop, in our home. My wife, our fifteen-year-old daughter, and I all have cell phones and have recently upgraded to unlimited texting which has thrilled our daughter to no end. We all have Facebook accounts that we check several times throughout the day. And I won't even go into how much I love Comcast On-Demand.
I was compelled to provide these facts up front so that you, the reader, might see that I am not a dinosaur who longs for the good ole days of only three network channels and rotary-dial phones. I have embraced technology just as much as the next technophile, but I seem to be noticing trends in society that I attribute to the increased usage of technology and the conveniences it provides. Patience seems to be at an all-time low and a person either can't, or won't, use patience because of the freedom technology has provided them.
For the better part of my life, people pretty much had to wait for things. When I was a kid, I had to wait for Saturday mornings to watch cartoons. That four-hour block on Saturday mornings was the only time cartoons were available. Now there are several channels devoted to nothing but cartoons.
Most of my classmates don't know the frustration of using a rotary-dial phone and dialing six numbers and then messing up on the last number, only to have to hang up and dial again. And after we dialed in the right phone number, if the person wasn't home or was on the phone, we had to wait for them to get home or hang up for us to try the number again. Nowadays, with texting, call waiting, and voice mail, making and returning calls require hardly any patience at all. Perhaps the only frustration in dialing phone numbers is experienced by those with chunky fingers. In fact, texting has become such a problem that laws have been passed to make it illegal to text while driving. There is something wrong with a person who can't wait to get to their destination before sending a text. You can click here to read about the new laws for truck and bus drivers and texting.
I remember having to wait almost two years for Star Wars to be shown on television before VHS was introduced. And when VHS was available, we had to wait about a year. Nowadays, movies are released on DVD, on the internet, and through Netflix usually within six months. And if we want to watch a movie, we have hundreds of channels to choose from, satellite radio to listen to, and on-demand content that is always available.
It seems that there is much less patience in people these days, especially on the road. People driving like crazy without taking other drivers into consideration or following basic laws and rules of the road. And what the hell happened to using the directional? Perhaps the technology that provides us with the instant gratification we all seem to embrace is spilling over into other areas of our lives where we need it the most: interactions with other people.
twisted richard
Snowshoeing
Sunday, January 31, 2010
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Everything seemed to hurt. His lungs, his legs, his feet…and especially his ass. He had walked several miles through the mid-summer heat before finally arriving at Mr. Pennington’s property, which sat high atop a hill that offered a view of a large lake. He increased his stride as he walked the length of the gravel driveway, up the marble staircase, and straight through the front door, letting it slam noisily as it hit the interior wall.
“Odieux!” he yelled, huffing and puffing. “Get your ass down here!” He paced the entrance hall like a caged animal, his eyes darting around. A boorish looking middle aged man soon appeared, wearing a black dinner jacket and carrying a glass of Blanc de Noire. The way he carried himself suggested a wealthy upbringing. So did the mansion he lived in. And when he spoke, his pretentious tone verified this. “I take it the problem has been taken care of, Lykourgos?”
“I ran into some problems," he said. “They’re still there.” Odieux looked unimpressed. “What happened?”
“I took out the first two houses with no problem but that third house…”
“What?” Odieux demanded.
“It was made of brick!! Not of straw and sticks like the other two. Now they're all holed up in that pig’s house! I mean, who woulda thunk that that third little pig, and believe me,” he said, thrusting a furry paw at Odieux, “he ain’t that little…who woulda thunk that he was a Structural Engineer? I didn’t even know they let pigs into college,” he added as an afterthought.
“We had an arrangement,” Odieux roared. “A payment has already been made.” Lykourgos stared at him unblinkingly. “I want this taken care of now. Every minute those swine are on that land I am losing money!”
"It’s taken care of," he said. "I’ve subcontract the Sparrows to peck away at the mortar of the third pig's house.” Odieux’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Lykourgos continued. “They’ll eat away at the mortar between the bricks until the house becomes structurally unsound and it comes crashing down.”
Odieux looked horrified. “How long will that take?”
“Five, six months. Tops,” he replied
“No, no no! That’s too long. I want this done now! I don’t have six months!”
“Then you do it,” Lykourgos spat. Odieux seemed to straighten up an additional few inches at this suggestion and stiffly announced, “a gentleman of my standing doesn't dirty his hands with such matters.”
Lykourgos laughed. “Then maybe a gentlemen of your standing should take a seat and wait, ‘cause this is the only way this job is gonna get done.”
Odieux stood silently as Lykourgos turned and left. He couldn’t believe that he had foolishly paid a wolf such a large sum of money to take care of a few pigs and now his fortunes depended on a scheme involving a flock of degenerate Sparrows. His glass of Blanc de Noire fell to the ground and shattered. Odieux felt sick.
Six months later…
Odieux raised a glass of Blanc de Noire to his lips and savored the taste. He felt good today. Better than he had for some time. So good in fact, that he felt no repulsion in helping his servants with their daily responsibilities. At least one, that is. He raised his glass of Blanc de Noire to his lips and savored the taste once again, as he rotated the metal spit that supported the carcasses of three pigs, suspended over a bed of hot coals. Yes, life was indeed good.
“Odieux!” he yelled, huffing and puffing. “Get your ass down here!” He paced the entrance hall like a caged animal, his eyes darting around. A boorish looking middle aged man soon appeared, wearing a black dinner jacket and carrying a glass of Blanc de Noire. The way he carried himself suggested a wealthy upbringing. So did the mansion he lived in. And when he spoke, his pretentious tone verified this. “I take it the problem has been taken care of, Lykourgos?”
“I ran into some problems," he said. “They’re still there.” Odieux looked unimpressed. “What happened?”
“I took out the first two houses with no problem but that third house…”
“What?” Odieux demanded.
“It was made of brick!! Not of straw and sticks like the other two. Now they're all holed up in that pig’s house! I mean, who woulda thunk that that third little pig, and believe me,” he said, thrusting a furry paw at Odieux, “he ain’t that little…who woulda thunk that he was a Structural Engineer? I didn’t even know they let pigs into college,” he added as an afterthought.
“We had an arrangement,” Odieux roared. “A payment has already been made.” Lykourgos stared at him unblinkingly. “I want this taken care of now. Every minute those swine are on that land I am losing money!”
"It’s taken care of," he said. "I’ve subcontract the Sparrows to peck away at the mortar of the third pig's house.” Odieux’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Lykourgos continued. “They’ll eat away at the mortar between the bricks until the house becomes structurally unsound and it comes crashing down.”
Odieux looked horrified. “How long will that take?”
“Five, six months. Tops,” he replied
“No, no no! That’s too long. I want this done now! I don’t have six months!”
“Then you do it,” Lykourgos spat. Odieux seemed to straighten up an additional few inches at this suggestion and stiffly announced, “a gentleman of my standing doesn't dirty his hands with such matters.”
Lykourgos laughed. “Then maybe a gentlemen of your standing should take a seat and wait, ‘cause this is the only way this job is gonna get done.”
Odieux stood silently as Lykourgos turned and left. He couldn’t believe that he had foolishly paid a wolf such a large sum of money to take care of a few pigs and now his fortunes depended on a scheme involving a flock of degenerate Sparrows. His glass of Blanc de Noire fell to the ground and shattered. Odieux felt sick.
Six months later…
Odieux raised a glass of Blanc de Noire to his lips and savored the taste. He felt good today. Better than he had for some time. So good in fact, that he felt no repulsion in helping his servants with their daily responsibilities. At least one, that is. He raised his glass of Blanc de Noire to his lips and savored the taste once again, as he rotated the metal spit that supported the carcasses of three pigs, suspended over a bed of hot coals. Yes, life was indeed good.
Prayer Bones
And the nights were long, weren't they? Cavernous
Things, they drew you to them, outward and away -
To the hungering fields wrecked with winter.
The nights were fathomless; the wind, the low hills
Dwindling. The unforgiving light was your own.
You fell to your knees, didn't you? Lost yourself
To the frostbitten ground. Tore at the gracelessness
Inside of you, while helplessly calling her name.
Until, as from nothing, nothing would open.
~ Ian William Douglas
Things, they drew you to them, outward and away -
To the hungering fields wrecked with winter.
The nights were fathomless; the wind, the low hills
Dwindling. The unforgiving light was your own.
You fell to your knees, didn't you? Lost yourself
To the frostbitten ground. Tore at the gracelessness
Inside of you, while helplessly calling her name.
Until, as from nothing, nothing would open.
~ Ian William Douglas
The Poet With his Face in his Hands
You want to cry aloud for your
mistakes. But to tell the truth the world
doesn't need any more of that sound.
So if you're going to do it and can't
stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can't
hold it in, at least go by yourself across
the forty fields and the forty dark inclines
of rocks and water to the place where
the falls are flinging out their white sheets
like crazy, and there is a cave behind all that
jubilaiton and water fun and you can
stand there, under it, and roar all you
want and nothing will be disturbed; you
can drip with despair all afternoon and still,
on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched
by the passing foil of water, the thrush,
puffing out its spotted breast, will sing
of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.
~ Mary Oliver
mistakes. But to tell the truth the world
doesn't need any more of that sound.
So if you're going to do it and can't
stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can't
hold it in, at least go by yourself across
the forty fields and the forty dark inclines
of rocks and water to the place where
the falls are flinging out their white sheets
like crazy, and there is a cave behind all that
jubilaiton and water fun and you can
stand there, under it, and roar all you
want and nothing will be disturbed; you
can drip with despair all afternoon and still,
on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched
by the passing foil of water, the thrush,
puffing out its spotted breast, will sing
of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.
~ Mary Oliver
I'm glad that you addressed such a thing. Actually, even though I'm only 20 years old, my friends and I often joke about how technology making various forms of media readily available really has resulted in people having less patience overall. While I wouldn't say that I'm the most patient person, I do wonder what information might be so important that it requires somebody to send out a text message while driving. It seems like it would be common sense to not use your phone while driving, but apparently it's not. Come on, people, at least pull over or stop in a parking lot or something if it's that incredibly urgent!
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, people not using their directional truly is very annoying.