Like ‘em or hate ‘em, computers have long since become a reality of our everyday existence. Like so many parents, I battle with my kids over tech [over]usage – admittedly made worse over this past year courtesy of online learning. I worry about their brain development. I read the latest information on radiation from cellphones, worsening eyesight, neck problems and a myriad of other health issues. Not to mention outright addiction. I whine about the internet bills and how we are overcharged – I hate calling my internet service provider more than I hate going to the dentist. And yet. …

And yet I cannot imagine going back to the pre-computer, pre-internet age. My mother was a professional secretary (she loved her profession and always used that word with great pride). She knew how to take stenography in a written shorthand language that seemed to me as impenetrable as Egyptian hieroglyphs. I remember her sweet little travel typewriter that fit into its molded plastic case, complete with a convenient carrying handle. I recall the black and red ribbons, the keys getting stuck (look up the invention of the QWERTY keyboard!), and the special rectangular “type out” paper that was inserted between paper and the typebars used to correct typos. I can still hear the ding of the bell when it was time for the carriage to be returned manually to the starting position on the next line. Line justification was essentially an impossible feat.

My well-meaning relatives gave me a kiddie typewriter (which really worked!) as a special gift when I was a little girl – I wonder how many little boys received such a gift? My mother, in her turn, sent me to the Y to take a typing course when I was a teen to learn how to type “properly” with all 10 fingers. Later, in the early stages of my career, a well-intentioned female middle manager cautioned me to never admit I could type because all the male managers would turn me into their secretary (on that occasion not said with pride or affection). But, in the long run, being able to type with 10 fingers has turned out to be an advantage.

The childhood visits to my father’s office were always a special treat, reminiscent of a trip to a foreign country. I still recall my awe in watching the telex machine working away – a typewriter that seemed to have a phantom operator. It even had its own special room due to the loud clacking noise it made. The fax machine, when it arrived, was a wonderous new technology – a long-distance photocopier that eliminated typing text and permitted images to be shared instantaneously. My kids likely wouldn’t recognize the unique high-pitched tone followed by that annoying static sound, which signalled a successful fax connection. I can honestly say I do not miss that particular combination of sounds from my life, nor the countless minutes spent hovering by the fax machine, waiting for that confidential document to go through – only to be met with a printed report indicating the fax attempt had failed and then the time-consuming repetition of the whole procedure. As recently as 2016, I was still sending faxes to remote northern parts of Canada where the internet continues to be intermittent at best.

When I started my first post-university job in the late 1980’s, there was still carbon paper. To this day I can remember the smell as well as the mess created by that form of making duplicate copies. Careless use of those inky sheets left behind a different kind of digital print than the one we refer to today! There were filing cabinets full of files, filled with paper copies, often on that detested transparent and crinkly onion paper. Finding information required, quite literally, a digital search (for which we donned those rubber thimbles to help separate the pages). Or occasionally there was a trip to the library’s card catalogue – all those miniature drawers filled with titles and numbers typed onto little recipe cards. Which in turn reminds me of Rolodex – the equivalent of today’s Linkedin or email “Contacts” repository. And how about that “little black book,” today replaced by Tinder, Hinge and their ilk.

Let’s not forget those innumerable telephone calls that were once required to reach someone. Remember those pink message slips? It took days and multiple calls to set up something as straightforward as a job interview. First you had to call the person at their home number and leave a message on their answering machine (if they even had one!), not expecting a reply until the next day. Then there was the haggling over a suitable time and getting back the confirmation.  A minimum of three days was required to get that person in, and you scheduled interviews well in advance. Meetings involving multiple participants were even more of a nightmare to convene. These days I can call someone in the morning on their cellphone and have them in for an interview later the same day – or else just do a preliminary telephone interview right then and there!

And those are just the basic uses of the computer today. In my own lifetime, we have moved from sending a telegraph to over-priced long-distance telephone calls to texting in order to let family know you have arrived home safely in Canada after a trip abroad. And my mother can instantaneously see my sister in Chicago while chatting long distance. Don’t get me started on the business of being able to access information on your phone from almost anywhere at anytime or being able to play games or watch your favourite show while commuting home.

It might be nostalgic to think of those halcyon “good old” days, but they really weren’t better in the technology sense. Unless, of course, you treasured your privacy. …

OK, Google, what do you think of that?