At least I made it halfway through my senior year of college before caving, right?
Yes, I went with a new service provider this week, one that will cost barely four dollars more a month and give me twice the minutes I used to have available, plus lots of texting (not unlimited though). I figured that was cheap enough to warrant the switch, plus I wouldn’t have to sacrifice the great cell coverage around here.
I’ve always been “the one” among my friends who doesn’t even have texting (not just limited, but none, nada, zip). Even my Quaker friend without the Facebook page has texting. So, it’s kind of a big deal for me to be doing this, at least for my roommate. (She has said for months she always wants to text me random things she thinks of, or observations, or whatnot.) So far I appreciate the additional method of communication; it comes in handy in certain situations.
I do, however, worry about being consumed by the texting culture. Number one, I’ve seen so many friends randomly text right in the middle of a social situation—game night, talking at lunch, what-have-you—and since I think that’s a rather insulting thing to do, I never want to succumb to that temptation myself.
Number two, articles like this one previewing the new book Alone Together make me worry that I’ll wreck my social abilities if I get too attached to texting.
“We're using inanimate objects to convince ourselves that even when we’re alone, we feel together. And then when we’re with each other, we put ourselves in situations where we feel alone—constantly on our mobile devices. It’s what I call a perfect storm of confusion about what's important in our human connections.”
Not that I’m a Luddite, some sort of anti-texting freak. Obviously I’m not. But I don’t want to misuse this fun little technology, and in so doing harm myself. You see?