Ain't no joke!
Then there are times when I'm just flat-out amazed that we have all this technology at our fingertips, and I wonder what my life would have been like if I had been living in what I imagine was a time when our private information was just that: private. Nobody knew from Adam about where you lived, at least not without finding a phone book in the vicinity of your home. These days, who even has a phone book? I can tell you right now that if a phone book were delivered to me, I'd toss it in the recycling bin and think "why do I need that crap, I have a phone/computer to look up where people live?"
This mindset, of course, spells doom for my chosen profession, in a way. The fact that I decided to become a journalist and write for newspapers perhaps was not a wise one, seeing how no one will buy a newspaper when they can read the news for free online and it's more convenient to just poke through what you want to read rather than having a cumbersome newspaper delivered to you when you might not even read half of it. In fact, even though I am a journalist, sometimes I wonder why my parents have multiple newspapers delivered to them. Why? Why not just read it online without paying the subscription? Of course it's ironic that I think that way, but I can't help thinking this way, given the fact that I'm a "Millennial," as my mother called me the other day when we went out to dinner and I had to check my cell phone several times - a pet peeve of hers.
This whole Death of the Newspaper thing really gets to me, of course, since it is how I chose to pursue my livelihood and it is disintegrating before us, much as any old technology is eventually replaced by a new one. Examples: the printing press replaced hand-written documents, automobiles replaced carriages, films replaced vaudeville, and oh yeah, "video killed the radio star." It ain't no joke.
The fact that I've been able to pursue writing as a career in any capacity is a blessing, really, considering how it is an extremely competitive field, much like any creative field is competitive. I remember when I was in high school I toyed with the idea of pursuing a music degree, but I told myself I lacked the talent, dedication and knowledge to make a go of it, and I didn't want to go ahead with anything knowing off the bat that it wouldn't be my passion and it would be half-assed. I love music and I sing in my car all the time without shame even though my P.O.S. car is totally un-sound proofed. But anyway, I digress.
The point I'm making is I'm conflicted about whether I am happy or not that we live in the age of incredibly advanced technology that shows no signs of becoming even more advanced, probably fulfilling the prophecy of George Orwell's 1984 which first brought up "big brother."
In any case, I've come to accept that we're living in a time where you can Google me and I can Google you. Hey, it comes in handy for my journalism gigs - it makes it much easier to do research when I can type "hyperbaric oxygen benefits" or "Resource Conversation District of the Santa Monica Mountains" into a search engine. I remember when I was in elementary school how excited I would be to look through encyclopedias or Encarta (it was basically the Wikipedia of the '90s, a CD Rom program version of an encyclopedia). These days, it's much easier for me to satiate my unending curiosity about even the most mundane things by typing it in a search engine instead of having to jump through hoops to find the information I want. And I am a highly inquisitive individual, obviously, that's another reason why I chose to become a reporter, because I'm naturally nosy, I guess.
Anyway, I think I'm going to go back to sleep. I've been kept awake with racing thoughts of various things from horses to job searches to apartment searches to even the Casey Anthony trial proceedings. That's my problem and what leads to my insomnia - my mind is always racing and it won't let up. Oh well! Blame it on the technology: it is what helps me derive unending information, and that's what I live for.
...Sidenote: I can't believe I ended that last sentence in a preposition and I'm okay with that. I must be really tired, or just lazy. Maybe both.
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