my, how times have changed....

last night i was chatting online with an old college friend. we were talking about old times, and i remembered how he had once coerced me into typing a several pages long report for one of his classes. this was because he did not have a typewriter, and i did. (also because he could not type, and i could.)

this image merged with a conversation i had the other day with my 10-year-old son. he wants his own computer/laptop very bad, and we keep putting him off. he asked me, "mom, do you think when i go to college i can have my own computer?" i told him, yes, most definitely. because what kid today doesn't go off to college with their own laptop and cell phone?

do you know what i went off to college with? a big-ass ibm selectric typewriter and a mini-fridge. i lived in the dorm and took potluck for a roommate. she was not there when i arrived, nor the next day, nor the day after that. her side of the room was completely decorated, however. there were framed pictures of some dude all over the wall, and big cushy letters above that spelled out "JAY." not a good first impression. hell would freeze over before i would ever decorate my living space around some guy.

she finally arrived, near midnight the night before college 101 started. she had driven back from austin, where she had seen JAY. i was quite sure that JAY in austin did not have his room decorated with big LAURA letters. in fact one time, she fell asleep while waiting for him to answer his phone. it woke us both up, hours later, when he got home and answered, startling her (and me) awake. the phone bill that month? priceless.

but i digress. i fell asleep last night thinking about the huge ordeal it was to misspell a word on a typewriter. that is, unless you had some special correction backspace key. you had to insert some kind of filmy paper directly over your mistake, and retype it. am i the only one who remembers this? it was very time-consuming. there was no cut and paste feature. there were no friendly windows. and i definitely don't remember anyone back then having a mac attack.

and here's another thing. these kids today can't type. they peck. i feel some bit of lingering superiority for being able to belt out my a-s-d-f-j-k-l-; keys in rapid succession, upwards of 80 words per minute. that is because typing was a class i took in high school. today i'm thinking maybe they should offer it to pre-schoolers.

i still text with one finger, though. i'm told, and i have read, that if you are truly great you text with both thumbs. that ain't gonna be happening for me.

so anyway, back to last night's chat. my friend and i had years to catch up on. i would type a question and wait an eternity for a response. so i'd send another line. "hello? you still there? did you fall asleep?" and eventually, he'd come back with, "i'm typing as fast as i can," and then a paragraph would appear five minutes later.

he still can't type. but that's okay. my ibm is probably in a landfill somewhere, and i've upgraded to apple products. i can scan pictures, upload my blog, and do lots of other things. surely i can wait a few minutes for a reply...

it doesn't take 1,000 words

when i spotted this picture on a friend’s facebook page, it caught my eye. in fact, i couldn’t stop looking at it. i don’t know anyone in it. i don’t know where it is, or what’s going on. but i love everything about it. it made me feel…like i was there.

because i have been there. many times. i can tell it’s probably in a small house, with wood floors that make a lot of noise when you walk across the room.

i can tell that the floor is probably lopsided because of all the different occupants – and furniture – that the house has seen. marbles would roll.

it’s maybe somebody’s birthday or perhaps even new year’s eve.

it’s loud. it’s personal. they all know each other.

i love the twinkling lights in the window, like maybe it’s cold outside but inside it’s kind of stuffy, and there’s lots of laughter. there’s inside jokes, eye rolling, standing around with awkward arms.

there’s food, but not much. some chips but all the dip is gone. you should have eaten before you came, because you might drink one beer too many. or heck, we’ll just go out afterward to that little mexican place that stays open all night.

you know the songs, or most of them, or some of them, because these are your friends.

from the outside, to someone driving by, it looks warm and nostalgic, makes them remember a similar time light years ago.

but for you, on the inside, it’s just another night. a fun night. that someday you will remember fondly. nostalgically. in about 20 more years from now.

...turns out, i do know someone in the picture. thank you, matt (on drums) for letting me share it...