I am loyal to anything resembling and or referencing to the “good ol” days; however, once more, I found myself subscribing to a temporary state of confusion, awaiting the L train at the Metropolitan transfer stop in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Suddenly, I felt as if I were experiencing the prerequisites associated with a coronary attack, as I watched a woman dancing while seated on the wooden chairs, lost in her inner glory — and listening to a WALKMAN.
I thought that everyone was on board the digital train.
Suddenly, I heard a ringtone and she reached in her coat pocket and–I hope you are prepared for this–answered her flip phone.
“HUH, where am I? 1989 or 2013.
Might as well bring back bell bottoms, boom-boxes, slap bracelets, high intensity hair, LA Gear Hi-tops- let’s be real you once rocked all of this at one point in your life and proudly proclaimed “I am the shiznet.” And if you did, just own it, it’s better if you do.
It is not my place to judge her, or anyone for that matter, but, somewhere along the lines, I could not help but wonder, “Did she miss the memo regarding the electronic upgrade?”
Perhaps she preferred simplicity. Flowing waves of thoughts washed forth silent queries: What type of phone did she own at home? A rotary with no caller ID? Perhaps she owned a black and white television with VHS. A non-digital Polaroid camera? The glorious woman aside, I appreciated this moment because I was reminded of where we have come from and where we are headed in regards to technology; talk about back to the future.