Blackberries harder to pick these days

Times have changed since the days of my youth many moons ago. Sometimes I long for its simplicity. Yet I must admit, I also love the now. Take for instance, a thing as simple as a blackberry. I used to pick them behind my grandmother’s house. Within thirty minutes, my bucket was overflowing, 70% of my face was purple, and my belly ached. Ah, the good ole’ days. But to the current generation, a blackberry means something radically different. A vital lifeline of communication- linking them to email, the internet, driving directions, calculators, voicemail, baseball scores, and schedule calendars just to name a few. Oh, and yes, it allows you to text. In my day, the word text was a noun and was something you dreaded studying the night before a test. I am privileged enough to currently have in my possession a blackberry. Though I remain largely intimidated by this wallet-sized computer, I have quickly grown dependent upon its features. I appreciate its advantages compared to the technologically impotent days of my youth. As a kid, I stayed up every night during the summer to watch the Sports on Channel 3 at 11:22 p.m. to see if my beloved Pittsburgh Pirates had won or lost. Most of the time Jim Thacker would zip through the scores, often informing me that at last check the Pirates were tied 3-3 with the Cubs in the 4th inning. And when I checked the paper the next morning, it would say the score was too late to be reported. Absolute bummer. Nowadays the blackberry can tell me within seconds of the ball soaring into the upper deck that my lowly Pirates have surrendered yet another grand slam. Herein lies the problem. For many years I lived without cable television, microwave ovens, remote control channel switchers, and cellphones. Yet now it is a traumatic life or death experience when any of the above is misplaced or lost. I think it has to do with dependence. Even our current president has gotten into the act. He wanted to keep his blackberry when he became president. Secret Service and intelligence officials forbade him to do so, claiming that hackers could steal sensitive secret information from his blackberry. Things like- “Hey, Michelle, have the girls decided what breed of dog they want yet?” Top secret stuff. Anyway, he’s one of the most powerful people in the world. Couldn’t he just say something like- “Excuse me, guys, I won the election, not you. Last time I checked I was in charge. The blackberry stays.” Just in time to avert an international crisis, a compromise was reached and the President of the United States has been issued a highly secure blackberry for his viewing and texting pleasure. Problem solved. If only the economy could be fixed so easily. So for old times’ sake, one hot summer night in the near future, I will walk over to the television and turn it on (no remote) to the local news station and munch blackberries while watching the sports. And once they tell me the Pirates have lost yet again, I will send a letter (not a text or email) to the front office demanding they spend more money to buy better players. Then I will check my blackberry for messages and go to bed.