Thursday, April 26, 2007

A-FREAKIN-MEN, SISTER!

The following column ran in the LA Times Calendar Weekend section today and I agree with it so much that I am posting it here as well. I think you probably already know where I stand on this, but here's a sista backin' my up.

H8 cyber mssgs; they R 4 losers

By Cindy Bertram, Special to The Times
April 26, 2007

WHEN was the last time someone sent you a letter? I'm talking about a real, handwritten letter in an envelope, with a stamp, delivered by someone in a blue uniform. Or the last time a friend called you on your home phone?

Go anywhere these days and chances are that you will see a person head down with a cellphone or a BlackBerry in his or her hands, fingers flying. Walking down the street, driving in our cars, sitting in restaurants, shopping at the grocery store — we're all staying connected without actually connecting. At some point during this ever-expanding Electronic Age, actual human interaction has been short-circuited.

I realized long ago that e-mail is definitely not my friend. Often without thought, you can dash off a message before even realizing what had just been written. E-mails are great for business. Send a colleague a note, schedule a meeting, plan a lunch — all are fine and very safe. But e-mail spells disaster in relationships. I never seem to send the right kind of message. I write differently than I speak, and my tone is misinterpreted almost every time. I am constantly pulling my cyber-foot out of my cyber-mouth.

And text-messaging is even worse. Now every two seconds my cellphone buzzes with a one-word gem that a friend has sent. Don't they realize that I am being charged 10 cents every time they send "Whassup?" And it's not just limited to people my age — my 67-year-old father actually sent me a text message to wish me happy birthday. He even figured out how to send it from his cellphone to my e-mail. I couldn't decide if I was impressed with his tech savvy or sad that I wouldn't hear him sing "Happy Birthday" off-key this year.

In relationships, text-messaging is the new phone call. I recently dated a guy — for almost two months — with whom I never actually had a real phone conversation. Our entire communication was through e-mails and texts. While proving to be fun and exciting at first, it just ended up really making my fingers hurt. When I decided to stop seeing him, I let him know with an e-mail (of course). His response: "I deserve a phone call. Message sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld."

Gone are the days of knowing if a friend was upset just by her "hello," or sensing if your date really liked you by the tone of his voice. These days, instead of real emotion, you are subjected to "emoticons."

One of my friends used the term "phone-a-phobic" today. Is it possible that we are scared of having "live" conversation? Have we gotten so used to the written word that we don't need to hear real voices anymore?



AND about that written word: I've had enough with the "C U L8R!" Written communication has become one big vanity license plate. I wonder if my old college English professors have also fallen victim to writing their e-mails in lowercase letters, with no punctuation.

Using e-mail to impart the news of life-changing events seems to cheapen both the news and the friendship. One of my girlfriends recently sent a photo of her hand to tell me she'd gotten engaged. Please give me back the days of waving your big, shiny rock in the faces of your jealous single friends!

I don't think I'm being selfish, or nostalgic, in my longing for the tactile. Opening my (U.S. mail) box to find a (printed) invitation to a party, or a (real) postcard from a friend's vacation, or a (scribbled) thank-you note from my nephew would certainly be attention-getting.

And, if next year Dad decides to call and sing, I'll be all ears.

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