As I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, I’m not new to this internet malarkey. I’ve been using it for over ten
years. But my understanding of new technology ground to a halt in about 1997, and so anything since then is a
bit of a mystery to me. Sure, I’m fine as the end user, as long as the instructions are idiot-proof, but trying
to keep up with the technology behind all the fancy stuff singing and dancing all over the world wide web
makes me feel stupid.
And don’t even get me started on mobile phones. I read recently that Japanese inventors have developed a “granddad mobile phone” that has large keys and does two things: makes calls and receives them. Good idea. I recently got a new mobile phone and I’m still weeping over the instruction booklet and freaking out every time some new strange symbol flashes on the screen. Although I did find my old phones the other day whilst having a tidy-up (you can tell it’s the holidays) and I had to laugh at their primitive displays and functions which I had thought were so cutting edge at the time. I guess this makes me a wannabe geek. Wannabe but can’t. There should be a TV programme for people like us, with mobile phone tutorials and stuff. There probably is.
But the thing that annoys me is the way my brain fails to register that cyber stuff can be a good thing in so many ways. My natural instinct is that sitting at my computer for long periods of time outside of an office environment (where I would be getting paid for it) is a Bad Thing. Never mind how much I’m actually doing, it still feels like I’m wasting time. For example, today I spent the morning shopping. Here’s what would happen the traditional way:
Drive to the shopping centre and find a parking space, worrying if the big BMW next to me is going to
smash his door into mine in a reckless manner the minute my back is turned. Hopefully this first part has
gone smoothly, and I haven’t had to queue for a space for too long or embarrass myself with unskilled
reversing manoeuvres. Secure car, find the pay and display machine, scramble around for change, return to
car to display the ticket. Secure car again. Wonder if I should have gone to the other shopping centre
instead because it has different shops. Battle past pushchairs, zimmer frames, people clutching clipboards
with a look of desperation in their eyes, gangs of school kids loitering outside fast food places and winding
up the beefy security men, and other shoppers with their bags and their attitudes.
Heart races slightly when I see “Sale” signs, and I dive straight in to rip through the rails and racks at speed, looking for elusive bargains. If it’s clothing, it’s usually been mauled and trampled and tried on a hundred times, and it’s never in the right size. If it’s CDs I start out with great patience, rummaging through displays methodically, but after a while it becomes more the action of a desperado as I flick through the plastic cases with ever increasing speed, pretending not to notice the other shopper working their way towards me with similar desperation. Soon our flicking fingers will meet and I’m never sure of the right move here, so usually step around them to the next row and then work back once they’ve gone.
This can be quite a frazzling experience and usually requires some fortification in the way of a coffee
or sandwich, and then it’s back to the shop floors, feeling slightly weary but determined to find some
bargains. If I’m successful in bargain spotting, my arms begin to ache from lugging around finger-pinching
plastic bags. My feet ache from the slow shuffle necessary in crowded malls, and I probably have bruises
from pushchairs being rammed into my legs. I return to the car for the drive home, my hands feeling sticky
and dirty from gripping onto escalators and pushing open doors. Once home, I have to sit down and work out
how much I spent in case my fine juggling act between my overdraft and pay day be disturbed.
Now have I ever thought that to be a waste of time? No! It’s been a ritual since childhood, although we did progress from the even more time-consuming bus travel. So why is it then that I see a morning spent in front of my computer instead of this as a waste of time? Here’s how my “cyber shopping” went:
Sat at computer in pyjamas with cup of tea and the radio blaring. Chose which online shops to visit,
and was given a choice of browsing through pictures of sale items or inputting a search: for clothes I could
put in my size and find out what they had left in that size; for books I could search by topic; and for CDs
by type of music, release date, other people’s suggestions or just simply browse. Every now and again I’d get
up to stretch my legs and empty the washing machine or something like that. I didn’t have to queue or pay for
food or drink. I could listen to whatever I wanted rather than screaming children and mall music. Granted,
you can’t try stuff before you buy it, but you can always send it back. Comparing prices between stores is
easy and saves shoe leather. No surly assistants! No sniggering school pupils calling out my name!
The only downside is that not all the shops I like allow you to purchase stuff online (the fools! wake up!
it’s the 21st century!) and some of them insist you go through the lengthy and annoying process of registering
just to keep stuff in your virtual basket.
So weighing up the experience of the shopping centre versus shopping online, it seems that the latter has all the advantages. And yet my brain fails to register this online experience as a worthy pursuit. Maybe it’s something evolutionary: sitting in my pyjamas in front of an eye-wrecking screen and supping tea with snacks to hand is hardly the same physical workout as pacing around the shops and toning arm muscles with heavy bag carrying. But it’s also less stressful. And that’s what I’ve got to try to get my head round.
added 3/8/05
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