Last night was a difficult night, the first in a while...
- We took our daughter out to dinner and then grocery shopping last night. She behaved well until about a half-hour into shopping, at which point she decided she needed to tear up and down the aisles like a cheetah on speed. After she totally ignored many requests to remain by our side and follow us, she lost that privilege and was confined to either my arms or the cart for the rest of the trip. She expressed her dissatisfaction at this arrangement by crying and whining.
- When we got home, she vehemently disagreed with our plans to put her to sleep for the night at 8:30pm, and she made sure we knew about it until at least 9:00pm. She was no doubt over-tired from her shopping trip with us, as she usually goes down at 8:00pm.
- She then proceeded to wake up at 2:30am, crying and complaining. My wife took care of her that time, so I cannot complain.
- At 5:20am, right before I was to get up for work, I was awoken by my wife, who had accidentally knocked over the glass of lemonade sitting on her nightstand. After cleaning that up, I took my morning shower, and got out just in time to hear our daughter crying and yelling again. A sippy of milk and fifteen minutes of reading got her calmed down again, and (hopefully) she fell back asleep.
- After pulling out of the driveway and driving all the way down the court, I noted all of the garbage cans at the curb, swore loudly, did a three-point turn, arrived back home, and put the trash out more quickly than I ever have before.
- All of this was compounded by the fact that I had some sort of unremembered nightmares last night that caused me to wake up in cold sweats; my wife tells me she didn't sleep very well either.
Luckily, things settled down once I arrived here. I mailed out some outstanding bills -- for some reason, that's easier to do from work than it is from home. Checked up on my email and the news and the usual websites. Got into a discussion with a coworker about old computers of the 1980s and early 90s. They have always been an interest of mine, and for a while I had intended to collect them (until I realized that there's barely room in my house for us, much less a bunch of old museum pieces).
That got me looking at OldComputers.Net, and remembering how fascinated I was with all of them as a kid. Keeping the 1980's theme going, I fired up iTunes and put on Thomas Dolby, and the rush of nostalgia came. Enormous curly hair, headbands, legwarmers, Trapper Keepers. Our first television with a digital tuner. My first computer. All of the gadgets that my friends and relatives had.
It hit me like a brick, and I grew very depressed. I miss the way I felt back then. I miss the wonder and the mystery, the excitement and the optimism, the imagination and the creativity. I miss the feeling of safety. All of those aspects of youth that fade away as we get older.
And then I thought about my dad. I talk to him all the time... but then, I've talked to myself all my life, and sometimes I think I say I'm talking to him so I don't feel so crazy. It has been over three years since he died, but I think some part of me still hasn't stopped mourning. I thought about how much I owe him, how much he taught me when I was young. He let me look at old computer and television repair manuals. He brought home hulking pieces of test equipment for me to disassemble. He taught me a few basics about electronic circuits. He read to my siblings and I every night. When I thought about the time I spend playing with my daughter, that's when I lost it and the tears welled up. I want her to feel the same way about me as I did about him back then.
As our daughter grows up, it's easy to be astonished by all of the similarities to our own youths, and at the same time, all of the differences. For example: she watches Sesame Street. She's not yet two, and yes, I've heard all of the warnings about limiting how much television children watch... but that's really all she watches, so I don't feel bad about it. Sesame Street is a perfect example of how things change and yet stay the same. Much of the cast is different; Elmo has center stage, while Hairy Monster is almost nowhere to be found. Even the theme song has been modernized -- kids today are obviously much cooler than we were. And yet, in every episode, we'll see segments from our youth, bits of cartoons or skits with Muppets that just make our mouths drop open and bring back memories that have been buried under years of experience.
My daughter plays with blocks and Duplo and Little People just as we did. She sings along with many of the same songs as we did. Yet her songs are on an iPod instead of a record player, and she can identify the cordless phone and both of our cellphones as such (the three of which look nothing like one another). On the other hand, she has that Fisher-Price phone that squawks as you pull it along the floor, and to her, it bears absolutely no resemblance to a "phone". It has a dial, and a handset connected by a cord. She probably thinks it's just some kind of weird looking monster.
I just want to make sure that she understands why a computer works, instead of just viewing it as a toaster. I want her not to take these amenities for granted, in a world where everybody is surrounded by instant communication, instant computation and instant gratification.