Things Change

Jeeze, I'm starting to sound like an old man. I stand in front of my young students and paint a picture of my childhood, which doesn't feel that long ago, and they freak out like I was born in a impoverished, far away world. I talk about a time before computers, cell phones, internet, 1000 channel TVs, electronic chalkboards, mp3s, GPSs, and texting. I mention ancient things like CDs, VCRs, phones with cords, cardboard 3D glasses, encyclopedias, folding maps, handwritten letters, Madonna, JC Penny Catalogues, and snail mail. And, my students stare at me with a pitiful blank stare like I'm some Oliver Twist from a bygone era. But that's how I looked at my parents when they told me about sitting in front of the radio listening to the Lone Ranger radio hour, walking five blocks to watch the one black and white TV in the neighborhood, traveling by ocean liner, and walking to school both ways, barefoot through snow.  I showed my 93 year-old grandfather my iPhone and he said it looked like it fell out of a spaceship from an advanced alien civilization. I can't imagine what my students' childrens' lives will look like. They'll never remember a physical mailbox, and that's why this tree is eating one.