The proliferation of techno-speak in my house has caused this writer great consternation and confusion. Blackberrys and apples are not just fruits anymore. Opening a window on my pc does not shed any more light on the subject. Rebooting has nothing to do with putting boots back on when I want to go outside again. I am never sure whether I should double click my mouse or set a trap for it.
Add to this confusion, three teenagers of the female flavor, all of whom are taking different foreign languages. The eldest takes Spanish, in case she ever visits Spain. The youngest takes French, because "that's what mommy took when she was in school." Finally, the middlest girl takes Latin, in case the Latvians ever invade the U.S. These different linguistic lingerings make for spirited, if not perfectly unintelligible, conversation around the dinner table. In truth, the three of them have taken to addressing me as Padre, or Pod for short, which is much preferred to old man, pops, or even, my personal favorite, bearded buffoon.
Then there is the Internet, this huge world of information at your fingertips. The biggest offender in the wanton wholesale dissemination of information is google. Of course, Google is the ubiquitous term for 'the' Internet search engine. During the course of one’s day if a question arises regarding some piece of trivia, such as whom the 18th president of the United States was, or something of more importance, like what his middle name was, we flippantly announce, “Let’s google it.” When I was in Grade school, if a student was unclear as to the spelling of 'onomatopoeia', the teacher would say, “Look it up in the dictionary.” Of course, today we visit a website for the spelling.
One particularly rough day, after trying to make a little over 3 apple pi's and a few quarts of blackberry whine, I was ready for a java break, so I announced to my daughters in my deepest, most impressive voice, "I pod" then settled into my favorite seat, "docking station."
