Laughing Matters: The One About the Technology Train

By Ryan G. Van Cleave | Illustrations by Darcy Kelly-Laviolette

At some point in their lives, most adults decide to get off the fashion train for good. It’s why my 50-something neighbor still rocks stirrup pants, slouchy leather boots, and a Joan Collins up-do, and it’s the same reason a not-to-be-named-here relative of mine boasts a closet near to bursting with wide-leg pants, braided belts, Cuban-heeled boots, and a lime-colored velvet leisure suit called “The Green Machine.”

I never thought I’d made such a drastic decision myself…until over the holiday break, I made the mistake of reading a couple of “Must-Have Apps” articles.

The result? As of the beginning of 2020, I’m officially getting off the technology train. I’m even seriously considering moving from my iPhone XR to a flip phone, not because it’s cool to be retro, but because I clearly have no need for these can’t-live-without-them apps. The world of technology has passed me by, it seems.

For example, here are just a few of the apps I CAN easily live without.

Buffer—it uses AI to calculate the best times to launch your Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn posts for maximum reach. Great. Thanks to this app. I’ll probably get pummeled with even more sleeping panda videos I don’t want while I’m in the bathroom.

Dad Jokes—just what it says. I don’t need an app for my funnies when I already say things to my kids like, “You know, I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.”

Bubble Wrap—yep, an app designed to digitally give you the joy of popping bubble wrap without the satisfaction of actually stomping flat those little pockets of air.

Plus, I find myself burning up more data on my phone by playing ridiculous games than doing anything productive. Worse, my kids tell me I’m totally playing the wrong ridiculous games. For example, I’ve gotten to be a pretty solid Clash Royale player. My kids explain that only games worth playing involve dragons, cookies, or unicorns—often two of those elements in the same game.

“I don’t understand,” I said about their latest gem, a game called Cookie Run. “Why do the cookies run?”

They give me that Oh, Dad! look, saying, “Because if they didn’t run, well, that’d be dumb.” It’s hard to argue with logic such as that.

My pending technology boycott isn’t just centered around the telecommunications industry. I finally decided to replace the balky front door to our house, and the guy at Home Depot told me I’d regret it if I didn’t get one with a built-in WiFi video doorbell and Bluetooth keyless entry. I asked why I needed keyless entry. He said it’d be a lifesaver if I ever lost my housekeys. I asked what happens if I ever lost my phone or the battery goes dead. He said, “Just don’t do that.”

Look—I get that some technology is pretty useful, like how my buddy has a three-wheeled robot that will fetch a cold beer from the fridge if you give the command phrase (“Feed me, Seymour!”). I can also sort of see the appeal of Roborocks—a robot vacuum that uses “cutting-edge room-mapping technology” that allows it to clean the floors while you sleep or you’re at work. And sure, there’s the VanMoof Electrified S2 bicycle, which features a top speed of 20mpg, runs up to 37 miles on a full charge, and has—wait for it—a turbo boost button. 

But I have to cry foul when I’m expected to tell Foursquare what Thai place I’m eating dinner at, upload photos of my Tom Yum Goong onto Instagram, and then Yelp about the quality of the evening. My kids tell me I should spend more time on the Food Porn Index, but I don’t want to know what that’s about! (Spoiler: it actually uses social media to encourage people to eat better—click on the kale slot machine to see what I mean!)

So, while I’m happy that many of you will enjoy this new world of 800x power microscope capability on your iPhone and PUMA’s laceless sneakers which have microprocessors telling micro-motors to tighten the laces with a single swipe, I’m going back to the Stone Age. Or at least the age where I lived a mostly-analog life that felt more satisfying and high-def than any OLED TV can deliver. Yes, it’ll be brutal with vacuums I have to push, shoelaces I have to knot up myself, and doors I have to open with actual physical keys, but I didn’t join Technophobes Anonymous just for the lousy coffee.

Have your own iPhone horror story? Ever wish you were still living in the golden age of the Atari 2600? Have an experience with new tech that made your own head spin?

If the AI running your life can answer “Yes!” to any of the above, go ahead and reach out to me via email at technologystinks@sarasotascene.com. I’m not sure I’ll be able to check emails on my new flip phone, so if you really need a reply, try snail mail. I think they’ve got a robot that delivers actual letters so the human mailpeople have time to play more Candy Crush.