Change is no fun
February 25, 2012
Our world isn’t perfect. There is certainly room for improvement. But there are things that I will really miss if they get replaced by something “better.”
When I was in college, and then later when I moved even farther away, my grandmother used to send me monthly cards and letters, describing the weather back home and the state of the family in her scrawling, elegant script.
I saved every correspondence.
Her words are special, of course. But just as treasured is her handwriting; the old-fashioned loops that draw a picture of her in my mind every time I see it.
Unless I make a conscious effort to be old school, my grandchildren won’t even know what my handwriting looks like.
If I do write them letters, they may not be able to read them. Cursive handwriting is becoming as obsolete as VHS tapes.
A majority of U.S. states have replaced handwriting curriculum with keyboarding as mandatory instruction in public school classrooms.
I agree that keyboarding should be mandatory. But how on earth are our kids going to write their first love notes if they don’t know how to write in cursive?
We are actually phasing ourselves out. What’s the point of even breathing when a machine will be able to do it for us soon enough?
Movie theaters and bookstores are closing in droves nationwide. My two favorite escapes from reality are disappearing right before my eyes.
I’m not opposed to a huge cineplex. I enjoy state-of-the-art screens and surround sound as much as the next gal.
But the small art houses and dollar theaters show the limited releases and have better popcorn.
I remember when I saw “Life is Beautiful” at an independent theater in college. That movie changed my life, subtitles and all.
I’ll rent it online and download it to a flat screen TV in our living room some day, but it won’t be the same as experiencing it with a small sea of humanity in a theater.
And bookstores… I can’t even talk about life without bookstores. It’s too painful.
The current state of the U.S. Postal Service leaves most of us cringing, myself included.
But will my grandchildren not know the excitement of opening the mailbox the week of their birthday to see what treasures were sent them from grandma?
I teach my son to write letters, how to address an envelope, and where to add the stamp. But he doesn’t have to lick the stamp like I did when I was a kid.
Self-sticking stamps are certainly more hygienic. But it seems strange that the taste of stamp adhesive is one less memory my son will have in his flavor repertoire.
When faced with a new experience, my son has been known to cross his arms across his chest, furrow his brow and declare that “Change is no fun!”
I tell him that change is a part of life; that it can be exciting.
I explain that if nothing ever changed, he’d still be a baby in diapers and would never get to be a worker guy/chef/scientist/rock star when he grows up. But there is a part of me that knows exactly what he means.
This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus and the Sidney (Mont.) Herald on February 25, 2012.