By the Light of the Alarm Clock

 

     If I ever write any kind of autobiography, I already know the names of some of the chapters: "By the Light of the Alarm Clock," and "1001 Car Problems."    The former title will be for the chapter of my high school years, whereas the latter is both a recommendation from a friend, and not too far from the truth.

     Here's where I start my "kids these days" posts.  When I was in high school, I spent hours and hours reading and writing.  If I was supposed to be in bed, but the Muse was flowing, I ended up writing by the light of my very cacophonous alarm clock, sometimes for a few hours.  That's what I was doing-- not playing the next eighteen levels of candy crush, not in an online "chat room" having hidden conversations with complete strangers, not binge-watching rated M TV shows.  I was reading that one last chapter, learning more Elvish, listing my woes in a diary, or writing Star Wars: Episode 7 1/2  (I had a slightly different vision than Abrams and Johnson.  Candidly, my version never would have made it to the big screen, but I digress.)  Nowadays when I visit the old stomping grounds, I am less likely to be writing and more likely to be indulging in some serious girl talk with my sisters who now occupy that room.

     It makes me sad to know how many children-- children, not even teenagers yet-- have iPhones, tablets, or Apple watches, and that is how they are spending their free time.  They are mindlessly exploring the internet, falling into all kinds of thick vats and quicksands.  They're not hard to find.

     Children are probably spending more time in front of a screen than with their own family.  If you hear kids talk about their family life, how often do you hear the following?

 

- Lucy and I built a castle with the blankets yesterday.

- My mom tried to teach us how to make muffins, but I accidentally got flour all over the floor.

- Liam and I wrote a play for the next time his family has dinner at our house.

 

     Instead, you are more likely to hear about YouTube, about how late the kid was up playing on the iPad, or how annoying the brother/sister is.  Of course your sibling is annoying-- so are you!  But to never play with him/her anyway?  I can't imagine growing up never spending any real time with your own family.  It's weird enough living so far away as a grown woman, but to grow up living such a separate life from all of your brothers and sisters?  No family meals, no games, just a screen?  What kind of a life is that?  You may love your screen, but it sure doesn't love you.