April is no longer the cruelest month as it seems. I just had my birthday in a joint celebration of the premier of the new season of Game of Thrones and Veep. Around the same time, Apple started their sales of Apple Watch, which makes me wonder, and this extends to all wearable technologies, why I would want a watch that tells me more than time.
My parents used to say when they were young, they could not have even begun to dream that they would have a black box sitting in their living room with real people moving and talking inside. Let alone moving pictures inside your jean pocket. I shrugged off their sudden reminiscent amazement while sending that carefully numbered text message to my friend (exactly 150 Latin characters, or 75 Chinese).
Am I too old for wearable technology? Is this lack of interest in wearable technology a sign that I have crossed that bridge to the other side of the generation who think phones should make phone calls and nothing more?
Essentially, a smart watch 1) tells you time, 2) counts the number of steps you take every day, measures your heartbeat, or all that fitness stuff, 3) helps you stay connected with the world.
A watch on my wrist has always made me feel I am in control of my time.
I have worn a watch since my teenage years when a cell phone was really a cordless land line phone. A watch on my wrist has always made me feel I am in control of my time; I didn’t need to fish out the phone from my bag; didn’t need the clock on the classroom wall. All I needed was control over my time, and that is one point for Smart Watch.
Step counting is a nice idea; I would like to know how many extra steps I took today so I could eat that double ice cream after dinner. Despite the fact that Claire Underwood so ardently endorses midnight jogs, jogging is not as healthy as it seems, especially for a lumpy space princess like me. (Jogging is damaging to the knees, the spine has to absorb the impact of your weight, but I’m not here to talk about health issues.)
Lastly, and this is the main reason why I wonder if I’m already too old for this world: that constant connection to the (digital) world. As if our phone were not bad enough already.
Hanging out with a friend, whom I haven’t seen in person for 6 months? Let’s look at her Facebook page to bring you up to date with her life. Having a nice dinner with someone? Whatsapp messages. Getting naked with my boyfriend? Phone buzzing. After a while it’s that little LED blinking light, winking at me, begging for my touch, appealing to my curiosity, demanding my attention.
And now imagine this pull into the virtual world right on my wrist, becoming not just a part of my life, one of my objects, but becoming a part of me.
We assume so much self importance that we think the world would stop working because we disconnect 2 hours from the Internet. We get disappointed when we realize the world just goes on as it is with or without us in it. We stay even closer in touch with the world to never feel that disappointment ever again.
“We are not too old, we are just lazy and not rich enough.”
I asked my boyfriend if we are indeed too old for all the new shiny technology. His answer reveals more truth than my rambling, “we are not too old, we are just lazy and not rich enough. We don’t jog, we don’t need a step counter. Plus we don’t have the money for a miniature iPhone.”