The first time I went to Disneyland--the Disneyland in Southern California-- I was about 9 years old. I vividly recall sitting with my aunt on a horse drawn streetcar that took visitors from the front of the park up Main Street. Back then, it was a re-creation of a turn of the century (20th Century) Main St. with what we loosely called "old fashioned" stores with cracker barrels, penny candy, and proprietors who wore hats and garters on their sleeves. Disney was always keenly aware of the romanticism of the "good old days" and probably wanted his guests to breathe in the nostalgia as they entered his masterpiece of an amusement park.
So, sitting there with my Aunt Dorothy I had an epiphany. My aunt had lived in a world where she could actually remember horse drawn streetcars as the state of the art. Suddenly, she was, at the age of 50, part of the recent past. As I watched the monorail train go by and eagerly awaited my first look at Tomorrowland, I realized the pace of technology.
Now it's my turn to be sitting on the streetcar of defunct technology. I realized the other day how many things that young people today will never see outside a museum or an amusement park.
A couple of years ago, one of my niece's children accompanied me in my pick-up on an ice cream run to the local grocery store. It was a warm summer afternoon and Annie was anxious to show me that she was now old enough to ride up front in the cab with me. She suddenly realized she couldn't roll down the window because there was no power window button. When I showed her the little hand crank, she was dumbfounded but quickly recovered. Then she thought that it was the "coolest" thing. I guess it would be never having seen a window come down that way.
These little revelations occur daily. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that I went through college without a computer. I've heard that it's possible to get a college education these days without ever going in a library. I see how, but I'm not sure I like that idea.
Wish I still had my little Remington portable. I couldn't get rid of it fast enough when I bought my first word processor. I should have thought longer on that decision, but then, I do enjoy going to museums.
So, sitting there with my Aunt Dorothy I had an epiphany. My aunt had lived in a world where she could actually remember horse drawn streetcars as the state of the art. Suddenly, she was, at the age of 50, part of the recent past. As I watched the monorail train go by and eagerly awaited my first look at Tomorrowland, I realized the pace of technology.
Now it's my turn to be sitting on the streetcar of defunct technology. I realized the other day how many things that young people today will never see outside a museum or an amusement park.
A couple of years ago, one of my niece's children accompanied me in my pick-up on an ice cream run to the local grocery store. It was a warm summer afternoon and Annie was anxious to show me that she was now old enough to ride up front in the cab with me. She suddenly realized she couldn't roll down the window because there was no power window button. When I showed her the little hand crank, she was dumbfounded but quickly recovered. Then she thought that it was the "coolest" thing. I guess it would be never having seen a window come down that way.
These little revelations occur daily. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that I went through college without a computer. I've heard that it's possible to get a college education these days without ever going in a library. I see how, but I'm not sure I like that idea.
Wish I still had my little Remington portable. I couldn't get rid of it fast enough when I bought my first word processor. I should have thought longer on that decision, but then, I do enjoy going to museums.
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