Augury

It's never constructive to engage in doomsaying.

But I have a thought that I would like to share. Several really, but if you have some time, I hope you read all the way through.

I had a pregnancy scare this semester. Several, really, hah. I'm pretty comfortable talking about it because the sheer scope of my irresponsibility with these sorts of things is hilariously absurd. But the situation made me think a lot about being a mom. Which I want to do, almost certainly, at some point, when I'm ready, and I know I'll know when I know, y'know?

A few months ago, I was out to dinner at P.F. Changs with three friends. Between bites of Dynamite Shrimp and Ma Po Tofu, the four of us happily gossiped about a couple at a nearby table. A man and woman, dressed well, both attractive, probably dating, and sitting in silence. They each had Blackberries out and were tap-tap-tapping away on them, hardly looking up, except to eat. And they never talked to each other until they got the bill.

I don't ever want to be like this. I don't want my kids to ever be like this. And I worry, so much, that people growing up today are so urgently bombarded with the multidimensional NOWNESS of technology that human interaction will become...fucking...gone.

Overstatement. I know. Cue the counterpoints about never being able to replace "a mother's love" or "a human touch." I'm right there with you. Allow me to sound off.

(Everything below is huge generalization):

Someone born in the 1950s, having grown up in The Time of budding suburbia and nuclear families, is probably going to be a player for Team Pro-Life, to create an example from a debate in which I hold heavy interest. A simplified, ultimate argument against Pro-Choicers is that we don't appreciate the value of a human life. Baby killers, we are. I see it differently, and a big part of that, I think, is the world in which I grew up. Independent women in control of their bodies = Abortion is an option for me, duh. I'm not getting into arguments of adoption or any other hypothetical issue, this is purely about the abortion debate. And I don't think anyone's wrong or right, there's no way to prove anything in a moral debate - it's up to the individual. But that 1950s person will die before I will, and I'll be pushing for abortion rights long after they're dust. That doesn't make me right, that just reflects the culture. But the generational gap now is so huge and the realms of understanding are so NOT overlapping, just because of how differently we grew up.

[switching gears, it's all relevant to my point, I promise]

In my journalism class this semester, Professor Zoffness prepared a brilliant lesson where we watched a ton of YouTube videos about journalism changing and technology transitioning and the unprecedented ways humans consume information, etc. We were asked if we thought newspapers and magazines would ever be phased out (&with them: books, paper, publishing, printing, and all the jobs that go with them). One guy said, no way: I love the feel of paper -- holding a newspaper in my hands and turning the pages could never go away.

"It's a tactile thing."

Yeah, dude, because you're used to it. You grew up with it. You watched mommy and daddy read the news that way too. Kids now are growing up watching their parents tap away on Plexiglas. The tactile thing for them will be a glossy screen, not a grainy newspaper. It might even seem totally gross to them, all those ink and papercuts. In a sterile world of smooth, glass interfaces, who the hell TOUCHES paper?

It's even kind of weird to just sit in front of the TV anymore. There's no way to interact with what you see. TV is a one-way street, dude. But this isn't about older people getting over their prejudices when adapting to technology. I can text faster than my parents can type and I'm sure my kids will be able to pwn me in whatever they'll use. This is about losing real life interaction.

Fast-forward thirty years. Hi, I'm 51-year-old Katrina and I hope I look damn good for my age because of all my Asian DNA.

My son doesn't talk to me. Not in a grumpy, rebellious teenager way, but in a legitimately-he-doesn't-feel-like-he-needs-to way. He speaks when it's necessary and socially expected - saying hello, brief small talk, voice activation codes (it is the future, after all) - but doesn't otherwise. He carries around his tablet computer everywhere. At dinner, I ask him how his day was and he's tap-tap-tapping away on iFaceboogle about how his mom is being super annoying. It is silent in the house, except for music. This wasn't how I grew up. I get fed up with the lack of voices and conversation and interaction and yell, "Why don't you appreciate the value of human life?!" and have an early stroke because neurons blow a gasket in my brain with deja vu overload.

It's not the same thing, I know. And probably would never happen in only 30 years. Humans crave interaction, everyone says. But what if they didn't anymore? What if it stopped being efficient? What if we're so blasted with quick information that the normal speed of talking and the singular act of conversation is too slow, too boring, not able to hold the attention of people anymore?

Does the human brain reward room flood with the same amount of good-feeling chemicals when I get a GChat "lol" compared to making a person laugh in real life?

If not, how do I actively keep people talking and interacting and touching and loving? All I can really do is keep talking myself, right? This is all probably trite and contrived and smart people have likely been thinking about these things decades before I have. I know I'm only scratching the surface. There's probably a sci-fi film in the works right now about a dystopian world where people never need to talk. Or maybe one has already been made and my embarrassingly minuscule knowledge of film has foiled me again. But it's 4am and I've had a lot of coffee and just want to be a good mom to some kid someday. If all else fails, I guess I could always put on my mom apron and blend.

* * *

The problem with the college bubble is how much I get into the critical analysis of literature and media and technology that I sometimes forget how to consume literature and media and technology for enjoyment, or forget to consume it at all. So when summer arrives, I have all these goodies to read and watch; I feel like I'm embarking on a huge archeological excavation and none of it counts unless I dig out the messages and am able to decipher what it all means for me as a consumer and citizen and living, breathing, dreaming chick in 2010.

(My fears about robots, coming soon in another post, especially with Christina Aguilera's new bionic album out).