Lansdowne Press

Multi-Tasking

The Real Presidential Debate

August 15, 2004:
Multi-tasking

Dearest Mary:

    Do you have multi-tasking up there in the land of the midnight sun? I didn't think so. Consider yourself lucky; here in the suburbs it's an essential part of modern life. For example:
The other day I was in the supermarket when someone I vaguely know was so engaged in two simultaneous conversations on her cell phone (call-waiting - it's hard to explain) that she walked off with MY cart. I followed with HER cart until she realized that A) she hated broccoli, or B) talking to two people at once wasn't going to put food on her table.
    Multi-tasking may be the downfall of modern man: I'll be pawing happily through the green beans, trying to commune with the essence of organic farming, while the person next to me conducts a slow-motion cell phone conversation that is the equivalent of nails scratching on a blackboard. Huh huh. Yah. Maybe, I dunno. Yah ..I guess.
    I want to to turn to her and snarl, "Is the house burning down? No? THEN HANG UP!"
I worry about the children. It is now standard to have a DVD player in the rear seat of the car. (It's not really a car, it's a converted oil tanker but we've already gone through this). Imagine that? You can drive through Yosemite National Park and not even look out the heavily tinted windows while watching a movie called "Yosemite!" on your DVD.
    How strange to reach adulthood without having the crap beat out of you by your siblings in the back seat of the car. It's the seminal experience that has probably turned some people into Presidents - of corporations, even the country. Who would I be today if I hadn't made my parents miserable through several time zones? So miserable that they dropped me at a rest stop with my brother, the very person I was trying to get away from. (Now that's a lesson in pushing buttons too far.) What if I had watched The Lady and the Tramp 17 times instead? Or Pulp Fiction? Or Sex in the City?
    I fear that back-seat DVDs will lead to a decline in standards for Ivy League schools, or - at the very least - failed appearances on Who wants to be a Millionaire?. No one will know stupid songs from their parents' generation, or be able to play "I Spy", or recognize license plates or states' mottos - quite sad, really. Plus, no one will ever talk - or yell. Mom will be on her wireless laptop and Dad will be watching the front DVD (I don't get this but evidently it's here). And next will be individual DVD players for as many back seats as you can cram into the super-sized, double-decker SUV that you will own in order to accommodate your children's entertainment preferences.
    Invariably, cars will come with e-mail readers so that the Global Satellite Positioning system will not only read directions out loud but also your e-mail. And it will all be idiot-proof. (Unless the idiot happens to be me, in which case the device will be broken before it leaves the box, the store or the garage - whichever comes first.)
    And when families finally do reach their destination, are they likely to even eat dinner together? There are now households where kids routinely eat in their own rooms in front of their own television sets. How will they absorb family dinner table soap operas -- that centerpiece of movies and television shows (think Sopranos) if there is no family dinner table? Instead, their memories will be a blend of The Bachelor meets American Idol-worship.
    Come to think of it, about the only thing that can top Fear Factor is plain old family dynamics: "Joey flunked math. Beth got kicked off the cheerleading team. Mitch got into Princeton. Dad got fired. Pass the salt. These peas are disgusting. Apologize to your mother. Do not slam that door." Sadly, from now on it's just Fast Forward, Rewind and Play. So, Mary, how are the Northern Lights?

Love,