From Model T to Apple

 

I look back at my parents’ generation and marvel at the changes their world went through in their lifetime. I remember being told of my parents’ honeymoon trip from Kingston to Toronto and driving along the dirt road that stretched between the two communities at a blistering top speed of 30 mph and in the words of my Dad, “We were just flying down the road”. They went from early models of automobiles and aircraft to sleek modern cars and jet powered aircraft. From gazing at the moon and stars and the wonders of the unknown to satellites being orbited around the Earth. There were discoveries in science and medicine which took the mystery out of a lot of the unexplained and put them squarely in the place of fact.  

But now I look at the changes that have occurred during my lifetime. When put in perspective, the changes are as mind-blowing as it was for the past generation.  Previously education relied almost entirely on books. Libraries were the go-to place for learning and was really the only source of knowledge outside of teachers or professors. Now, complete world libraires are available at the touch of your fingers through the internet. There have been advancements from the earliest days of room-sized computers to microchips today that have so much more computing power than those room-sized computers. It’s common knowledge that the complete computer power contained in the capsule of the Apollo 11 moon landing mission is exceeded in a $14.00 pocket calculator available today. I was 7 when Yuri Gagarin was launched into space, the first human to have done so. Today here we are with the Curiosity Rover travelling across the surface of Mars and the drone Ingenuity flying through the sky of Mars sending video transmissions back to us. Television went from being able to watch “The Wizard of Oz” once a year at Easter to being available on video tape, then to DVD and now to streaming anytime you want, on demand.

When I compare my parents flying down the road in their car at a blistering 30 mph to the features of my car today, it is equally amazing. I don’t need to even turn the headlights or the wipers on. The car figures out if its dark and adjust the headlights accordingly and if there is any moisture forming on the windscreen, the wipers just come on. If someone asked me how to turn the wipers on, I would be at a loss. With lane assist and adaptive cruise control it is within the realm of possibility that I could lose consciousness just as I got on the 401 and have the car merrily continue along the highway with me totally unaware of my travels. As the old joke goes, I could die peacefully in my sleep unlike my wife, who as the passenger in the car, would die screaming in hysterics.

Simple time pieces have evolved from the ubiquitous Timex watch that kept on ticking through thick and thin to the technology of my wristwatch today which reminds me of among other things, of appointments, emails coming in, text messages, weather warnings and to alert everyone if I have fallen. This is seemingly very important to my loved ones due to my propensity to detach myself from ladders when doing yard work. At night, without prompting, it acts just like a Mom telling me its time for bed. Then 20 minutes later if it hasn’t detected I’m lying prone, it gives my wrist a nudge and tells me that I’m past my bedtime and I better get to bed right away or I won’t get that toy I’ve been wishing for (ok, so my watch doesn’t say that; my wife does). It makes me feel oddly warm that my watch cares so much about my health and well-being.

Thanks to all this technological development, I’ve been living through my second, no wait, my third childhood. It is not what you may expect from a guy venturing into his late 60’s. Even though by my age it is certainly expected that at some point I might start regressing into child’s play, but that is not the case here… yet.

My first childhood was made up of Erector sets, Lincoln logs, wooden blocks and the occasional hand-me-down tricycle. Being the youngest of 5, I always got the hand-me-downs. Closing off my childhood, just before I hit double-digits were G.I. Joe’s and a Man From U.N.C.L.E. briefcase (which fired ‘real’ bullets!).

My second childhood was presumably for my kids, but essentially for myself and could be boiled down to video games, LEGO’s and, “I’m Batman”.  

Now, in my third childhood, it’s the toys presumably for my grandchildren, but essentially for myself that enthrall me. The favourite around here at this time are mini flying UFO drones, complete with side pod sensors and flashing lights that sail around the room sensing when an object is near and then flying off in the opposite direction. When a group of eight are launched simultaneously around here it’s like watching a dogfight from the Second World War, albeit with UFO’s. The only danger being anyone with long hair risks getting tangled in a prop as they swoop in on you (learned the hard way).

I don’t know what the future holds, I barely know what the present holds.  But I’m sure in the same way that my parents couldn’t foresee the changes in their lifetimes, and I couldn’t have foretold you that I would have motion-sensor UFO’s swarming my living room and eating hair, that my kids and grandkids will see unfathomable changes throughout their lives as well.

A Brief Conversation With My Brain

 

One of the most fascinating aspects of the human experience is our propensity to learn. From the moment a baby’s eyes open (or even before according to some) their brain is inundated with sensory input that sets them on a path of lifetime of learning. The complexity of day-to-day life entails that we must learn to adapt and sometimes conform to the world around us. Watching children learn is truly a parent’s eye-opening experience. To see the light snap on when a child makes a thought connection and the problem that was once incomprehensible to them suddenly evolves into a solution.

I remember seeing this happening with my own children as they grew up, but perhaps I didn’t appreciate it as much because I was still in the trials of learning to be a parent. Trying to be a role model when you have no idea what you are doing can sometimes be overwhelming. Now, as a grandparent, perhaps that one degree of separation makes it all more evident to me when I see my grandkids learning so much in a short period of time. To listen to their speech pattern evolve from squeaks and giggles into well structured sentences or questions over a few short years is astounding. It is interesting to see how their thought processes maneuver through this very strange world we live in, especially through the last two years when normal socialization has been thrown out the window with the bathwater.

 An example of this was when my daughter-in-law related to me how when our 6-year-old grand-daughter was listening to the radio and Harry Nilsson’s song, “One” came on. For those unfamiliar with the song, part of the lyric is “one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do”. When the song was over, she quizzingly looked at her Mom and said, “Why is one the loneliest number when it has zero and two to keep it company?” Pretty hard to argue against that logic. I just hope she doesn’t get exposed to America’s “A Horse With No Name” and try to make sense of the lyrics of that song. “In the desert you can remember your name, cause they’re ain’t no one for to give you no pain”. Trying to parse that one would likely make the poor girl’s head explode, like it does mine.

Learning is a lifetime thing; every new experience brings something different to the table. However, as you get older the bloom definitely comes off the rose. Its not that there is less and less to learn, it is just the brain gets picky on what should be kept and filed away and what needs to be dumped. Too much clutter slows the machine down. Time to defrag, as my wife would say.

I recently had a long conversation with my brain about the state of my learning ability when I tried to concentrate on working through an especially tangled economic report and got nowhere fast.

“Hey! Excuse me Brain, can I have a word with you about this retention thing I’m having?”

“What now? Can’t you see I’m busy keeping you alive? You think its easy getting all the organs pumpin’ and dumpin’ in harmony? One misstep and you don’t want to know…”

“No, no, no. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate all your efforts, especially the pumpin’ and dumpin’ part, but I’ve got to learn this bit of information and right now and for the life of me, I just can’t absorb it!”

“Are you trying to tell me how to do my job? Do you know how much stupid, useless information you’ve shoveled in here over the years? Music trivia? Plots of movies and novels? Conjugations! Why the heck would anyone want to remember how to conjugate ‘to love’ in Latin? No one speaks Latin anymore! Ever heard of delete?”

“I don’t know… It just pops right into my head, ‘amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis amant’. Almost like a nursery rhyme. Why do I remember something I learned over 50 years ago and not the numbers I just read 2 minutes ago?”

“Mysteries of life, buddy. Listen I was just chatting with the hippocampus and we’re both a little peeved about all this data input. Take a look at yourself, you’ve practically got one foot in the grave as it is, don’t you think you’ve learned enough? I’ve got no problem with you taking stuff in, just don’t expect me to store it anywhere. I’ve run out of space. I’ve got your stupid memories up the ying-yang.”

“Come on, please? Just one more bit of data? Just this once?”

“Let me tell you something. You know that time you walked into the kitchen, and you immediately forgot what you were looking for? That was me just letting you know who’s in charge around here. You won’t like it at all if I decide to go on strike and shut everything down, and it won’t be for a noon-time nap. Capche?”

“Ok, ok. Sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll be more selective”

“You better be. By the way now that I’ve got you here, your liver wants a word with you too.”

So that’s the state of the nation. Its satisfying to watch the young learn so much in such a short period of time. Me on the other hand, not so much. It’s one thing to teach an old dog new tricks, but quite another to expect him to remember them.