Conveniences of Life

In my kitchen, there's a rather modern microwave, the kind where you press a single button for just about everything you'd want to put into it.  There's also an oven only a few years old, and a refrigerator just a bit older than that.  Both appliances offer all of the modern conveniences people would expect.  Between the refrigerator and the oven, amidst semi-recently purchased plastic containers with "aroma-sealing" or what-have-you lids is a Tupperware container that is used to hold flour.  It was likely bought at a Tupperware party, also likely back when the concept was still new and novel.  Inside of that container, resting on the flour, is what most people would call a spade around the same age as the container, and they'd wonder why a garden tool was being used in the kitchen.  It is not, however, a spade.  "Back in the day", it was a rather common kitchen tool, used to dig powdery substances--such as flour, as a matter of fact.

I like using that container and "spade".  I have other containers and devices I can use, but I prefer those two items, in conjunction with the sifter that's likely even older than the "spade" and the container.  Every time I use them, I think to myself how, sometimes, the old ways really weren't so bad at all.  Sure, if you want to get into the heavy stuff, no one can deny that the equality issue, for example, is better across the board now than it was half a decade ago; we're also now better educated on medical issues, leading to longer lives that also stay productive.  I think, however, that most people see the heavy issues and disregard all of the things done and knew a generation or three ago; baby and the bath water, as it were.  I don't know why that is, but I find it disheartening.

Sometimes I think it's a case of too much convenience.  Consider the automat.  Now we have pre-packaged foods that you can grab and eat on the go, for any meal, and most places even offer microwaves to heat food up before you go.  It's convenient, yes, but I think it's a bit too convenient.  When we do that, we don't really see or talk to anyone but the person behind the counter where we purchase the food.  Automats, however, were similar to cafeterias in that there were tables to sit at.  This restaurant-esque atmosphere engendered meant that after you purchased your food from the slots, you would sit with other people.  Even if you didn't necessarily speak directly with people at neighboring tables, they were still there.  You would overhear their conversations, hear people speaking of their hopes and dreams, their fears and failings, and--consciously or not--you'd remember that these are real people, working no less hard for no more money than you.

We've forgotten what that's like, I think--being around other people for most of our day.  These days, most people ride alone (whether literally or metaphorically) to work, where they work alone, then they ride home alone.  If they live with someone who stays at home, then that person has been home alone all day, taking care of household tasks.  Perhaps they go out to a grocery store or to a laundromat, but they are still at least metaphorically alone.  At least a good eight hours spent in solitude.  This causes feelings of isolation, and we have a harder time sympathizing with others, especially those outside our Monkeysphere.  These days, we get most of our news from televisions and newspapers rather than neighbors--and most of us don't even know our neighbors' names.  Neighborhood backyard barbeques have given way to solitary or near-solitary entertainment with a television.

Walking around my city, I can always tell the general age of cement sidewalks.  The cement laid decades ago is still unbroken (save for obvious external things like a growing tree, an accident, or some similar).  The cement laid comparably recently typically has cracks--hairline fractures all the way to deep gashes.  Makes me think about the conveniences around us.  Culturally, we're different now than we were even merely decades ago, in some ways drastically.  As such, we divide, we put up these huge chasms between "us" and "everyone else".  A few generations ago--yes, you had problems like equality issues, but we're laying that aside for the moment--people tended to stick together, they tended to keep larger Monkeyspheres.

I have to wonder about future generations.  Will the ever-growing desire for convenience make them even less capable of dealing with others on a personal level?  Will they see others solely as a means to garner more convenience?  I hope they remember that when we walk through life, we leave footprints behind us.  More and more, people's footprints are in solitary paths, only lightly touching on another person's footprints.  I hope they remember, so walk with as many people as they can.  A new automat has opened in New York.  Hopefully a lot of footprints will lead there, and more will be opened across the world.  Maybe then there will be fewer solitary paths.