My children, except for Luke who is a confirmed Luddite, continue to force me into the 21st century. So far, I’ve resisted Twitter and Facebook (though I’ve promised to reconsider it this summer), and I’ve succumbed to email (indispensible), blogging (really fun) and now instant messaging.
Though I’ve succumbed to IM-ing, I’ve not sure I get the point of it. First, when a send-response thing gets going, the chatters tend to talk over each other, especially an impatient, fast typist like myself. And with multiple chatters, it’s chaos—I feel a migraine coming on.
Second, the grammar and spelling associated with IMs is appalling—the teacher in me has conniptions. (In case you aren’t familiar with a Connie-conniption: my eyes light up with dark unearthly burning, my voice become gravelly, the hair on the back of my neck sticks up and I prowl for child-flesh.)
But here’s the worst thing, my kids IM me from their bedrooms! Hello, get off your rumpus and find me—our house is not big and I don’t sit in front of my computer waiting to be IM’ed. Does anybody have any idea what this is going to do to interpersonal communication? Not to mention the grammar-spelling issue!
I could be wrong, but this may be the end of the world as we know it…