Driven to Distraction


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I'm old enough to remember life before Google. Truth is—I don't know how we survived. The only people who could look anything up at ten o'clock at night were rich people who had the Encyclopedia Britannica. And I'm certainly old enough to remember wandering around with a four-pound cellphone with an antenna so big you could get on a horse and joust with it. But this was long before texting and streaming and I know it’s not fashionable to admit this—I’m addicted to all of it.

We are slaves to technology. If you're sitting at a red light and you look at the car next to you, you know there's a 50/50 chance that person’s not looking anywhere at the road. No, no. They’re staring down at their no-no place and their fingers are going 35-miles per hour. In the old days you’d say, oh that's just some clown enjoying a personal moment. But now we know, no, it’s someone who’s innocently risking everyone's life while texting in traffic.

We’ve all done it. I’ve done it. But I don’t do it anymore. I have the solution. It’s slightly easier than 12-steps. When I'm behind the wheel, it is the only time in my life that that phone is not near me. It can't be near me. I can't be trusted. If that thing is sitting in the coffee holder and it buzzes I want to know what's going on; some part of my lizard brain demands to know what's going on. It could be something really important. Someone could be texting me a picture of their lunch.

So do what I do: Admit you're powerless. Put it in the glove box or put it in the backseat. Depending on your level of addiction put it in a Ziploc, wrap it in duct tape and lock it in the trunk of the car. Technology is astounding but please, no more texting in traffic. We all must do what we can to avoid the irony of stupid death by smart phone.

Posted: 04/11/2015 7:20:44 AM | with 0 comments



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