Technology takes away free time.

Here I was at a red light in my new car (take a guess...it's a Ford) on the way to the grocery store. Not even a grocery store, but one of those huge buildings that take up more space than needed where a wonderful park could be built. Inside you can buy a lawn mower, get the week's office supplies, and a case of beer for the basketball games. One stop shopping. Navigating the parking lot and the check out aisles it becomes a one stop headache.

It's cold outside and before I even get to the vehicle the doors are unlocked and lamps under the mirrors light up to make sure my shoes won't get soaked by a hidden puddle. Arms a shivering, I turn on my heated seats. Instead of adjusting the fan and temperature, I hit the auto button. The Explorer knows what the ambient temperature and adjusts accordingly. I am listening to a favorite CD coming through the 8 speakers, if I like I could hop in the back and flip down the TV and pop in my favorite DVD. Without a hitchhiker or a friend in the SUV, I decide not to explore this option. My cell phone is plugged into the charger and if it did ring all I would need to do is hit a tiny plastic button on the stereo with a picture of a telephone to mute the speakers.

I am now here at home typing on my personal computer. Living in the basement I am cramped for space and the company laptop sits sloppily on the bed a glow with the Microsoft Outlook Inbox having more messages than needed. The laptop has a friend called a travel printer, buttons lit up neon green, but incapable of spitting black ink onto the white paper. I guess the travel printer has racked up more frequent flier miles than I have and has taken a permanent break. In the background I hear Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan talking on the TV. Their voices, however, are overshadowed by Ryan Adams playing his melancholic songs through computer speakers.

Conveniences, pieces of black plastic with aluminum trim filled with circuits and wires almost as tiny as a human hair. We as humans become amazed and attached to these belongings. Oh how the buzzing sounds and beeps fill the air around us. Then they break. These things that become as important as a heartbeat stop functioning. Like a heart attack we don't know how to react. We want to call for help, but are stuck, frozen. After we catch our breath we go back to our primitive past and hit the thing. After that for some reason we think it’s the day before Christmas and start shaking it likes a freshly wrapped gift. After the poking and prodding we become 3 year olds and complain vocally. We throw little temper tantrums and don't understand how something so expensive can become inoperable. We do all this because heaven forbid we pick up the pages stapled together titled "instructions." Ten percent of the US population reads ninety percent of the books in circulation. That 10% is the same 10% that doesn’t have the VCR clock blinking 12:00.