the internet

In 1999, I just kind of assumed that once 2000 rolled around, the future would ride in on its flying car and change everything. Of course, I didn’t think it would happen in the first month – I wasn’t a complete moron. I gave it at least two or three years, knowing that moving sidewalks don’t build themselves overnight. But the funny thing about the future is that it never truly arrives. It just kind of happens gradually, like weight gain. It’s embarrassing that it took me nearly two decades to untie myself from the idea that one day I’d wake up to discover everyone wearing the same silver jumpsuit and the only recognizable thread of my outdated life is that everyone still hates Michael Bolton.

I had no real reason for believing that the years in front of me would welcome a technological renaissance prepared to boast more than the transition of cassette tapes to compact discs. And since this sensationalized future that I created mostly from early morning viewings of The Jetsons wasn’t coming to fruition, I was soon disappointed. It was tip-toeing through progress, when I expected it to sprint. Eventually, I struck a balance between defeated realism and the fact that by 2004, I could take pictures with a cell phone.

It easily produced the worst photos I’ve ever seen. So grainy and blurry that a rough sketch was usually preferable. But I still thought it was probably the coolest thing a phone would ever do. I mean, this phone could make calls almost anywhere, take pictures and produce a pretty convincing MIDI version of ‘Für Elise.’ Of course, I thought I’d be flying by that time, but I couldn’t even fathom how it could get better than this.

Until about two years later, when I got a phone capable of capturing video. Holy shit. I didn’t even know what kind of sorcery was going on over at Samsung, but surely this was the stopping point for any hand-held technology. It could record video of such quality that sometimes you could even tell whether or not your subject was bipedal. You could also access the internet, or at least some parody of it. But my awe soon wore off because while it was definitely a step in the right direction, it was also the technological equivalent of flame decals on an Astrovan. I was especially unimpressed with its aptitude once I upgraded my 3rd generation iPod to one capable of video, what is now referred to as the iPod Classic. Granted, it couldn’t record video, but my phone hardly could either. This offered crisp non-Big Foot-esque video playback. With colors actually occurring in nature.

After that it was the iPod Touch, iPhone and now, the iPad. In each case, the successor instantly neutered what came before it – making something just several months older seem at home in a time capsule with L.A. Gears, Ace of Base tapes, and Jaleel White. My iPod Touch is solid for music, but not much else. Thanks to AT&T, my iPhone barely even functions as a phone. But on my iPad I can read books. I can even create little reminders for myself in something that looks like a regular .79 legal pad but is actually just a gluttonous display of poorly directed funds.

Once I opened the box and reacted to its very satisfying but obviously first generation heft, I was overcome with a sadness that can only be fueled by regret. I remembered my family’s first computer – a Dell desktop that had to weigh at least 86 pounds, manufactured in 1998. When I sat in front of it the first time, I felt overwhelmed. It seemed to eclipse me in size three times over, but that didn’t matter because I could do almost anything. I stacked my music collection to a staggering 92 songs. I had my own email address. I could even spend countless hours playing my only computer game – The Simpsons: Virtual Springfield. I felt guilty that after a few years, I simply discarded it and sought out more portable, but mediocre, alternatives. The iPad, however, doesn’t overheat or require 22 different kinds of cables and for those reasons alone, I find myself unable to romanticize that monolith of a computer.

Eventually, the 9.7 inch display will become as antiquated as the 1.6 inch display that all of my awful flip phones shared. One day, the iPad will suck, too. But right now, I have over 6,000 songs, two email addresses and, well, that Simpsons game was kind of lame anyway. The only thing it can’t do is assist me in coming up with a description that doesn’t live in a basement of uninspired, expletive-laced statements.

Seriously though, it’s really fucking cool.

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