In church recently, I had a rude awakening.
And that rude awakening was that I am freaking luddite. Or, more accurately, I’m too poor to afford technology.
Therefore I shun it. (Until I can afford it. Then I embrace it without scruples and promptly judge those who aren’t on the cutting edge. But until then, I’m way, way too good for it and never wanted it anyway.)
This realization was reached when we were singing a hymn at church. There I was sitting in a meeting singing along, when I look over and a friend of mine was reading the words of the hymn off a device that looked like it came straight from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Only, instead of being held by some space alien, it was being held by a normal man in priesthood meeting. And instead of being some kind of shooting mechanism that could kill aliens and ugly-looking rodents if they got too close, it was basically a hymnal. A hymnal worth a MILLION DOLLARS.
Word on the street is that this newfangled mechanism is something called an “iPad.” And the hymn he was looking at was available because of some “application” (still not positive what those are having never touched an iPhone or iPod Touch, but they sure sound fancy.)
Guys, do you want to know what year I’m stuck in?
Just take a look:
|Remind me why I use my blog as some kind of ignominious confessional again?|
The really sad thing? There’s a part of me–a very, very small part of me–who still thinks I’m kind of cool when I whip that thing out. And then I remember that I’m half-a-decade too late to be cool, and that today’s technology is so advanced that by the time I catch up I’ll be doomed to own 2015’s equivalent of the Razr, and that I basically look like the kid who got the regular Nintendo Entertainment System several years after everyone had upgraded to the Super-Nintendo but didn’t realize how behind he was and didn’t understand why nobody showed up when he invited friends over to play Duck Hunt.
(You should come over. I’ll totally dominate you on the clay pigeons. Any day of the WEEK.)