Instant Impatience

We Still Had Fun Before All of This Technology Hit

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I’m watching television on my parents 25-inch console television, which is by and large considered huge in size and doubles as a piece of furniture with the nicely fitted wood trim and speaker cloth framing both sides. I do this by pulling a singular knob out to turn the power on. Its got a grainy picture with mediocre sound quality and when one show is over someone has to get up and walk over to the set to turn the knob to change the channel. Incredibly no one seems to mind this task, which repeats itself through out the day.

Every morning my sugar laden milk bowl that once contained my fruit loops or my sugar puffs has turned a funky pink color as I watch the Flintstones, yogi bear, magilla gorilla, and the Jetsons. Occasionally in the early morning or at the end of the day a test pattern appears on the screen in the form of a series of circles with an Indian chief in the center of the screen while emitting an oddly mesmerizing whistle. Commercials interrupt the shows sporadically and we watch them with the same interest as you would the programs.

Our furnace has heating grates that lay horizontal to the floor and they serve my sisters well as they open the wrapper on a Hershey’s chocolate bar and let it rest on the opening until it melts to the desired square of goo. Mom always seems to be out in the kitchen cooking meals, which happen everyday at precisely the same time. Breakfast is as soon as you wake up, supper is always at 5 p.m. and Sunday dinner is 1 p.m. This routine never changes and your social life revolves around this and not vice versa. Sunday dinner is always pasta with chicken or roast and potatoes and salad. Always.

Dad is out working as he is the only bread winner in the family. When you didn’t feel like watching television you turned on the transistor radio, which was about the size of a loaf of bread and when you turned the dial for another station (you received about three) it would snap,crackle, and pop like your cereal did. The days were comfortably long and you savored it as it seemed to last forever.

I look outside and see the milkman leaving the porch having deposited two fresh glass bottles of milk in our silver insulated square receptacle, which we leave on our front porch for that very reason until we are able to retrieve them. I’m asked to go get some groceries from the local store that is family owned and seemingly on every block. They ask you what you want by your name and you put your bill on a house tab.

Outside we are playing stick ball or burn the base or kick the can or riding our bikes. We were always outdoors until your dad whistled for you to come home and they each had their own distinct call so that there was no confusion. Your phone was black, with a rotary dial and was attached to a wall or sat on a table. It remained in the house. If someone tries to reach you they would call the number and if you didn’t answer, it meant that you weren’t home and they would try again later. There was no message to leave, and no machine to leave it on.

You want to watch a movie? Great, you walk several blocks to downtown to one of two movie theatre’s and you choose which one.

I’m suddenly transported from the mid sixties to the year 2010. I’m watching television on my 58-inch high def flat screen Televison. It takes me seven steps to turn my T.V. on with my state of the art universal remote that replaced my previous fourteen that I had to use. I never move as I peruse the four million channels available to me at the press of a button but yet I complain that there’s nothing on.

Meals are random as time permits. Grocery shopping is done at a big chain with hordes of people roaming about and ultimately waiting in long lines while the shoppers ahead of you sort through their expired coupons as you bristle because you’re in a hurry. You always seem to be in a hurry. The kids, they never leave the house. They glam onto the Internet or play game after game after game until their senses are dulled to a nub and then say they are bored.

You can reach someone immediately with a cell phone, twitter, facebook, or myspace. You can google any information you need on any subject. You can watch a movie without leaving the house with on demand or netflix. You can pay your bills online instantly and without effort. You can shop with a credit card from your sofa.

Everything comes to you faster, more efficient and in an easier manner. We want it, we want it now, and we get it. So tell me with all this technology that allows us to have instant gratification why are we more impatient now than ever?

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life,been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.