Life in the Electronic Lane

Nothing new here, I am just sharing some observations. Yesterday started early. Long before the sun came up, I was in route to a daylong judging session in Rutherford County. Although I did not know the location of their board of education office, I was not concerned. I have a GARMIN. The rain was relentless, and patches of fog added to the mounting tension. Literally, muscle tension was rising from the base of my neck and moving forward to my forehead. I think squinting, as if it would make me see better, was the contributing factor here.

As I entered Madison County, I thought about a colleague traveling to the same destination and wondered if she was having the same difficulties that I was experiencing…so I texted her. I did not pull over.

In a blinding downpour, I managed to punch out a brief text. Fat thumbs and an archaic phone only contributed to making an easy task extremely difficult. One-handed maneuvers kept the Ford off the shoulder and out of the ditch, although I was on the wrong side of the road part of the time. This is a stretch of secondary road with no known posted speed limit, but I am sure that I was exceeding it, if there was one. I realized that my heart was racing from a couple of near misses. Driving is almost a cardiovascular exercise for me. Reflecting on my sent message, I actually smiled a bit. “Be careful!!” Maybe I should have sent that one back to myself as well.

After reaching the interstate, I punched some information into the Garmin. Always looking for a shortcut or way to save some of my 1440 minutes, I touched the screen no less than 12 times. Garmin checked with the satellites and informed me that my best route would be the one I had already chosen. Traffic is horrendous; we are traveling almost bumper-to-bumper at 75 plus mph through heavy rain. The Ford and I press on eastward. Garmin says I will be at my destination at 8:30. Apparently it does not sense my hunger or coffee cravings. The cell vibrates under my leg, notifying me that I have a message. “U 2” in response to my previous message.

It is all amazing in a way. The little Ford’s engine is controlled by microchips; cylinders fire at precisely the right time…electronic timing, electronic firing, electronic fuel injection, electronic braking, and electronic speed control keep me just below 80 mph. The cell phone is sending electronic signals to microwave towers located approximately 40 miles apart. Garmin is sending signals to satellites some 22,000 miles above my head, and Carrie Underwood sings to me through speakers in Ford’s doors. It is like being connected without any wires. WE hit Nashville traffic and almost bumper-to-bumper becomes stop-and-go for the next 45 minutes.

At 8:30 A.M., Garmin announces my arrival. “Arriving at destination.” I don’t even question it. I get out and head for the door, open umbrella in one hand, computer over my shoulder, and Ford’s key in the other hand. Fat Thumb presses a button and I hear electronic locks engage. Out of habit, I press again and hear the horn remind me that all is secure.

For the next eight and a half hours, I will stare at a computer screen ,with headphones in place, evaluating over 100 videos that were submitted for a competition. A couple of times during the day, I did take some calls and return others. That seems to be a necessity if you participate in Life in the Electronic Lane. Dinner time arrives and with the assistance of Google and Garmin we decide and locate the restaurant of our choice. Paid the check electronically with a card, and then I proceeded to my motel to check in to a room that was reserved online. Opening the laptop and instantly connecting with my desktop computer back at the office, I begin the task of reading and responding to the 50 or more emails that have arrived in the inbox since last checking. Before turning in for the night, I will update the district webpage with employment opportunities. (758 hits today…wow!)

Another day begins; another 1440 minutes. How will I spend these? I have an appointment in Nashville later today. Traffic seems normal at first, but that quickly changes. Fifteen miles out and all lanes are blocked. I assume it must be an accident and accept it as such. Looking around at other cars and trucks reminds me again of the life in the electronic lane. The driver of the car beside me talks on her cell. In my mirror, I see another driver on the phone, and to my left, I observe someone texting. Is everybody exchanging messages with somebody? Are they Twittering? As we begin to move, I check the time and continue to observe for the next 38 minutes. The trucker next to me now is flailing his arms, making gestures as if he is talking to someone. He is definitely not happy, and I know why. He is paid by the mile, and he is averaging 4 mph. Not good. I think I will call my wife. ;-)