Home | Other | Humor | Twitterpated


Font size: Decrease font Enlarge font

Technology for the holidays

Prompted, guided and nourished by news reports of record consumer spending after Thanksgiving, children everywhere were expecting record happiness at Christmas. Anticipatory adrenalin was at record levels throughout the land. Not as volatile as other forms of energy, this one however is responsible for roughly 92 percent of our economy, and therefore happiness. It’s kind of hard to explain but if you can picture a dog chasing its wagging tail, then well, you got ‘er dialed in pretty close.

Whole families got together in most cases for the first time in years and traveled hither and yon to do so. Some for nostalgia’s sake, some to improve their inheritance and others simply because it was cheaper than going off to Orlando on a third mortgage.

And everyone brought along their ‘stuff.’ And this stuff required power, lots of ports and even more of patience, each of which are in unusually short supply on road trips.

Moms and dads had their pads capable of talkin’, textin’, tweetin’ or streaming and receiving video to or from any point on the globe with brilliant efficiency. The kids each had their own means of communication, mostly last year’s offerings or hand-me-downs plus game machines and whatever else I haven’t yet heard of.

Undaunted by the inconvenience of travel, it only fed their sense of coming attractions. Adrenalin builds when we’re in groups. It’s our nature. With little else to do in confined spaces surrounded by family, our thoughts typically turn to personal gain and social status. Most of them spent wondering if parents were too thick to understand the hints given them in preparation for this auspicious and globally important event. Anticipation so thick this time of year, you can only cut it with a sharp credit card. Mainly they’re looking for certain items that will improve their social demeanor and have clearly hinted at a sad and dysfunctional death if they don’t find in their stockings what is desperately needed to fulfill this task.

Maybe you can’t put a price tag on happiness but you can sure put one on stupidity.

It used to be simple enough to host such a gathering. ‘Antique’ toys and board games were brought out to occupy the children who were told they were bringing it all full circle by playing games their parents grew up with. Anymore, this would cause widespread nausea for it seems everything pales in comparison to a Facebook page.

What a modern host needs today are plenty of designated outlets for charging and powering devices plus free wi-fi for all.

So just as they settled in for a long winter’s nap they plugged in all the stuff they held dear in their laps, re-friended their friends and uploaded the latest trends concerning all the stuff they hoped were so nicely in wraps. (Sorry, this isn’t a poem; however…)

When it gets light enough out to warrant blowing ‘reveille’, they start to get the first wafting of gramma’s sticky-buns and fresh hot coffee rolling through their sinuses.

Quite suddenly there’s a lineup outside the bathroom and it’s already decorated with three Facebook pages, a couple of e-mail accounts, some online banking and a dancing four-year-old checking for tweets. Such is the age we live in.

Grampa plugs in the tree he has so painstakingly strung with all the old lights he’s been using since he got married. Woefully, it happens to be on the same circuit as a dozen or so pieces of highly prized electronic gear in various stages of updating, downloading and charging. Applause, oohs and ahs ensue and after a ten amp breaker pops and darkness overtakes the congregation, this response is replaced with moans, groans and foul utterances. Several farts echo the room, releasing more moans, groans and foul utterances but only one apology. 

Gramma is standing next to the tree holding an empty plate of pastry in one hand and checking her facebook page for an update from her sister in the other. She doesn’t even notice the darkness surrounding her little get-together. She has her ‘share with everyone’ flag flying as well as ‘be my guest’ and with clear mind, punches the ‘live video link’ equipped with auto night vision button, sharing with the world the next ten minutes of a ‘Norman Rockwell moment for the twenty-first century’.

In this snap shot of modern Americana, we see an older cast member (retired English teacher) focusing on a tiny touch screen slowly lowering himself down on a nice hot, steamy cup of cappuccino until the heat within locates his dangling participles. This provokes a string of statements and salutations so profound that some of the younger audience lose their water whether they were payin’ attention on not. At this moment, grampa resets the tripped breaker while munching on a sticky-bun and checking his voice mail. The tree comes back to life as if in response to the cappuccino induced blathering still going strong, but a short circuit under a wet four-year-old causes another blackout, more moans and groans, two cases of hiccups and a small but intense fire under a startled kid glued to his facebook account and tweeting excitedly about the experience.

Alone in the basement and open to suggestions, gramps gets his technologies confused and decides to reboot the electrical system by tripping the main breaker disconnect, killing power to the whole performance. Licking his lips and parts of his i-unit of brown sugar and maple flavenoids, and with the same conviction he uses with all things electrified, scratches his pate, steps back and by the light of a dying flashlight, ignites his tabby by stepping on its long hairy fuse.

 When the crowd upstairs heard the siren wailing they made like sheep and got the flock outdoors where they tweeted excitedly about their impending rescue until no one showed up, illustrating the obvious… a family that tweets together simply bleats in the weather.

Happy New Year!

Subscribe to comments feed Comments (0 posted)

total: | displaying:

Post your comment

  • Bold
  • Italic
  • Underline
  • Quote

Please enter the code you see in the image:

  • Email to a friend Email to a friend
  • Print version Print version
  • Plain text Plain text

Author info

Scott Clawson Scott Clawson No, he's not the electrician, he's the OTHER Scott Clawson, who's a quality builder when he's not busy busting a gut while writing his humor column for the first issue of each month, or drawing his Acres n' Pains cartoons.

Tagged as:

humor, Facebook, technology, holidays, Scott Clawson, Twitter, smart phones, Christams, tweet

Rate this article