Before smartphones, there was mom.

We’re plugged in 24 hours a day now. We’re all part of one big machine, whether we are conscious of that or not. And if we can’t unplug from that machine, eventually we’re going to become mindless. ~Alan Lightman

Lately, I’ve been trying to think of ways to resist the constant pull of technology and social media. I’m planning on deactivating my Facebook account in February…whether that will be a permanent thing, or just temporary, has yet to be determined. All I know is that I need a break from it. It has become nothing more than a platform for people (myself included) to voice their complaints on everything from their relationships to traffic and – especially this time of year – the weather. I think I can do without that for a little while.

Another idea that keeps popping into my head is getting rid of my smartphone. So far, I’ve talked myself out of doing that, since I use it for absolutely everything…it’s my camera, GPS, encyclopedia, and radio. I download books to my Kindle app for my monthly book group. I have a special trails app for all the hiking we do. I have a tabata app for when I workout at home. I use this thing for far more than just calling and texting people. Could I live without it? How DID I ever live without it?!

I’m trying to think back to the days before smartphones. I remember when I had my teeny little Ericsson flip phone about 15 years ago, that at the time seemed so advanced, though I couldn’t even text with it. How did I ever get to where I needed to go? What if I got lost? And what did I do when I absolutely had to know, RIGHT THEN, who invented those crazy elaborate devices that performed simple operations by sending a rubber ball through an insane sort of obstacle course (answer: Rube Goldberg)?

I called mom.

My mom was the reference librarian at our town’s public library for many years. She is a veritable encyclopedia of information all by herself, but armed with the infinite amount of information available on the Internet, she is absolutely un-stump-able. I would frequently call her long-distance (back when that was a thing) whenever I had a random question about a movie/book title, or the spelling of a particular word. Oftentimes, the questions were much more complicated than that, but she was always able to give me the answer very quickly.

I called her numerous times when I was lost in Boston, and she would patiently give me turn-by-turn directions (from memory) over the phone until I found my way to Storrow Drive, whence I could find my own way home. When I moved to Indiana, I would continue to call her whenever I was lost in the maze of neighborhoods full of identical mid-century houses, nary a landmark to be seen. I would give her my cross-street, and she would plug my coordinates into MapQuest and get me wherever I needed to go.

My mom never seemed put out by any of these requests, but she loves solving puzzles, so it’s in her nature. I like to think I take after her in that regard, and I think the hours I spend researching various topics online out of my own curiosity is a clue that I do. Unfortunately, the ability to access all of this information from a handheld device has taken me away from the people right in front of me, on so very many occasions.

I’m not sure how practical it would be to go back to the days of a simple talk/text cellphone…the days of calling mom whenever I got stuck. I know she wouldn’t mind, but my parents are far better at unplugging than I am. I wouldn’t be able to guarantee that I could reach them. They are often without a cellphone, and don’t even have a voicemail box set up. They are also completely unapologetic about this, as well they should be. On the rare occasion they are questioned about it, they simply ask “What did people do in the days before cellphones??”

What DID we do?

We got lost. Sometimes we were lucky and had a map in the glove box. Other times, we had to – the HORROR – stop and ask someone for directions. We had to actually consult another human being. I often wonder if my shyness and introversion is exacerbated by the fact that there is very little need for human interaction these days. I can do everything online – I don’t even have to call and TALK to anyone. It is both a blessing and a curse.

Long story short, I’d love to disconnect. I’m just not sure how far I’m willing to go. I’d like to get out of my comfort zone, but it’s just so damn convenient living this way. But perhaps, it’s not as much of an adventure. And that’s something that everyone could use a little more of.

You know...that THING?! With the things??

You know…that THING?! With the things that move and it does something at the end? You know??