Saturday, August 16, 2014

The Days of Fisher Price


When my kids were young, this is the telephone they had. They grew up to be thoughtful, articulate communicators. Tone matters. Emoticons are not tone. Letters are not words (a, I, and O are the only exceptions). Numbers aren't words. Sometimes, I worry about where this Flat Screen culture is leading us.






13 comments:

  1. Well, there's no going back, it seems. I remember that little phone, I think my kids had one just like it. :-)

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  2. So did mine. They are both good communicators face to face, but are screen people as well. I don't mind it as long as they're looking at me when we're talking face to face.

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  3. I worry about them not learning penmanship and cursive. I recently heard about "creative spelling". I am concerned, too.

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  4. In September I'll be a grandfather. I hope to be there to show him there's more to life than an iPad or PC.

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  5. Perhaps there's no going back, but there can be a creative refusal to go forward. You know where I am on this technology business, and I intend to refuse until my dying day all attempts to force me into a less-than-human world. Granted, seeking a truer humanity will necessarily mean a continuation of false starts, mistakes, and struggles - but I'll take it over anything being served up out of Silicon Valley. (Well, ok - not anything. I am making use of Khan Academy to brush up on my math skills.)

    As for the phone -- I had to laugh. I remember our first phone. It was black, and it sat atop a little table. It didn't have a dial, for heaven's sake. You picked up the receiver, and the nice operator asked, "Number, please?" Then, she connected you. I had to memorize our phone number before I could ride my bicycle farther than our block. Our number was 1906.

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    1. I love that: "a creative refusal to go forward."

      Our first phone was an oak box on the wall ... party line, two longs and a short . :)

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  6. I grew up in a big, extended, ethnic family. In my early years, we all lived in the same flat in a two flat building. My family, my aunt's family, an uncle and his daughter, and my grandmother, who owned the house. At some point, no one wanted to pay the telephone bill, so, my grandmother contacted the phone company and talked them into installing a pay phone in the vestibule. I still remember the grown ups digging into pockets and "pocket books" for a dime to make a call. :)

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    1. What a wonderful story! it sounds like you had an interesting childhood ... love it.

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  7. Flat screen culture, ironically has no depth, it literally takes the third dimension out of life, and it is the third dimension that holds the value of life.

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  8. My son had one of those phones, too. Now they have play cell phones. That's why the world needs people who will teach kids cursive and show them how to use a typewriter and tell them about the old days...but can also enjoy video calls from the grandkids. ;)

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