Understanding The Dinosaur

The bad cold my husband had, the one I kept at bay, was only a temporary reprieve for me.
A full fledged head cold is underway.
Watery eyes, sneezing, and a box of tissues close by my side.
My voice does not sound at all like me.

I don’t have to teach Bible study this week so that is a blessing.
I don’t have to speak in front of any woman’s groups in the near future.
It is just my husband at home and he was already sick.
There is nothing pressing that cannot wait until I feel better.

I had to make a phone call and got one of those automated prompts.
I was supposed to say which category I was calling about.
I didn’t get that, was the robotic voice’s response.
I repeated it again and again to no avail.

I am sure by the third time, my already raspy voice sounded a bit perturbed.
I often wonder if there is an actual person listening in who at any time can interrupt.
I often wonder if they are waiting until you go through all the hoops until they get on the line.
I would really like to know if what I wonder is true.

It is frustrating not to be understood.
You know what you are saying but the listener cannot discern the meaning.
It is frustrating to speak coherently yet have it come across as gibberish on the other end.
At least a smile is a universal language but a smile cannot be seen through the phone.

Finally, when a person was on the line, my raspy voice didn’t seem to matter.
We moved the technology aside and interacted one on one.
We spoke to each other instead of through a device.
We talked and handled the question and the solution in less time than going through the hoops.

I remember the days of the phone operator.
You could call the operator to look up a phone number for you.
Simply knowing the person’s name and general area was enough.
An actual person was on the other end of the line and found the phone number for you.

Of course you had to have paper and pen to write it down.
Of course you couldn’t lose the piece of paper or you lost the phone number.
Somehow we survived.
Somehow we got the information we needed.

I have many phone numbers in my contacts on my iPhone.
However, I still have an old fashioned phone book.
My husband does not understand why I would choose to have that in my desk drawer.
No one else could follow my system, since actual envelopes with new addresses are in there.

I actually went to the store to buy a new phone book.
I could not find any.
Not one phone book was on the shelf.
There were monthly planners, daily planners, and journals but no phone books.

I was actually sad about that.
Granted I could have gone to another store but I have a feeling it would be the same.
Phone books, dictionaries, thesauruses, encyclopedias have been replaced by technology.
I am not that much of a dinosaur that I do not accept or use technology.

However, I am wistful for the human aspect.
I miss the writing down, the looking up, and the feel of those things in my hands.
My husband has a Kindle and tries to insist on buying me one.
I have graciously refused over and over much to his dismay.

I want to see our ten bookshelves in different rooms around our house.
I want to see books lining the shelves with extra books going in different directions.
I want to smell a book and feel its pages.
I want to be able to underline and write in an actual margin.

I want to be able to speak to a person and not a machine.
I want to be able to ask a question that I choose to ask and not one that fits the prompts.
I want to be understood no matter how raspy my voice sounds.
I guess I am a dinosaur but that’s fine with me.

I want to find room for my record player and get out my old albums.
I laugh when I see vinyl records as if it is something new.
I want to play my old 45’s, if I still had them.
I want the thrill of opening the plastic cover on a new album and listening for the first time.

Nostalgic, perhaps.
New is not necessarily better.
But neither is old.
Each has its place.

However, without human contact, we are diminished to tasks that needs to be completed.
Without human interaction, we would live in a cold, impersonal world.
With only automated prompts, we are easily misunderstood.
And we wonder why so many people are frustrated.

How about putting down the Kindle and going to the library and actually taking out books?
How about having contacts in your phone but buying a phone book for that personal touch?
How about not streaming music all the time and actually playing a record on a turntable?
How about mailing a letter once or twice instead of sending an email?

Behold how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity. (Psalm 133:1)

Uniting the dinosaur with the progressive.
Uniting the book lover with the Kindle lover.
Uniting the phone book person with the contacts in the cloud, type person.
Uniting the robotic prompt with a human voice.

There is room for both.
Those differences keep us interesting.
There is no room for scoffing and thinking one way is better than another.
We each may learn something from the other.

Unity begins when we understand each other.
We don’t have to agree.
We can each park ourselves in our own camps and stay there if we like.
There is room for difference and variety with mutual respect.

That’s what make life interesting.