"So, I walked for an hour through two feet of snow just to get to school in the morning, and those were some of the finest times." My grandpa was always telling me stories from his childhood when I'd make even the slightest complaint about one of my daily routines.
"You kids drive all those gosh darn fast cars all the time and do a million things a day. Sometimes I wonder if you'll ever stop to smell the roses."
"Oh, Grandpa. I know, but I had to walk so far to get here, and now I'm going to have to walk all the way home when I leave," I said. But for some reason, the overused cliché Grandpa brought up struck me in a curious manner, and I pondered over it for a few seconds. "Well, what do you mean?" I asked him.
This was only the third time in almost five months that I'd come by to see my grandpa. He lived two blocks away.
Grandpa then related back to all the exciting experiences he'd once had during the earlier years of his life. He reminded me of many stirring encounters that occurred on his way to his friend's house as a child, like the spine-tingling shortcuts he would take through the old cemetery on the hill above his house. I realized that this was something that the astonishing transportation of today would most certainly eliminate. He reminisced about the days when time progressed without the speeding assistance of technology.
"All those new gizmos and gadgets out there are sure making life a whole lot easier and convenient for everyone, and I'm certainly glad to have them. But then again, time just races by because things can now be done so effortlessly. If you're not careful, you might be missing out on some of the best times in your life, honey. Heck, you hardly have anytime for your old Gramps anymore," he said with a teasing chuckle.
My grandpa was right. A simple phone call was all it took to get in contact with someone who was thousands of miles away. Furthermore, camera phones were allowing one to see that person in mere seconds. High-speed internet engulfed lives with the art of instant messaging, and it also allowed countless types of information to be obtained in a glimpse. I thought of the stories that I would one day be telling my children and grandchildren. The fact that they would be nothing but that of high-tech machinery or computer related experiences put a feeling of distress inside my heart. Technology, as great as it was, had been deleting many of society's old, precious ways.
Just then, my Grandpa's attestations were confirmed, and the blaring ring of his home telephone startled both of us. It was sitting just next to me, so I picked it up and looked for a caller-identification screen.
"Grandpa, where's your caller ID? Do you want me to answer it?" I asked.
A smirk was the only reaction I got. I did not answer it, and after the sixth ring, the person hung up.
"See what I mean?" He asked. "Don't you miss the anticipation of wondering who it's going to be? Now, those few seconds are...