The Life of the American Teenager

by Lisa Rosen on December 6, 2011

Pardon me while I put on my kids these days cranky-old-woman voice.

Whatever you remember about your life when you were fourteen?  Forget it.  Just dump those memories right on out the window; as a frame of reference, they’re completely useless.  Even if it was only five or six years ago, and you’re my one and only twenty-year-old reader–your fourteenth year would be downright quaint in the eyes of a fourteen-year-old today.

Case in point:  Delaney is, as I write this, hanging out with a friend.

Let me paint a picture for you.  She is walking around the house, carrying her laptop, headphones in her ears.  I started to ask her a question, and she shushed me, pointing to the computer.

She is on Skype, hanging out with her friend–WHO IS TAKING A NAP.  I know she is; I peeked.  She’s sound asleep.

“Shhh.  She’s sleeping.  She wants me to wake her up in twenty minutes.”

The same friend hung out with us while we ate dinner (Lee’s out of town).  Delaney put her computer on the table so we could chat.   Actually, it gives me the weird feeling that the girl’s head is hanging out with us, sort of hovering on the table, like the Make-Over Barbie I had when I was a kid.

I know we talked on the phone a lot when we were kids.  I remember.  And I know that half of you are remembering how you fell asleep with the phone pressed up to your ear, while your boyfriend/girlfriend was sound asleep on the other end of the line.  I know.

But video just feels different (see what I mean?  This is where I start using my old geezer voice).  It’s like they’re almost in the same room, but not quite.  THEY CAN HEAR WHAT GOES ON IN EACH OTHERS’ HOUSES.

It wasn’t like that when I was a kid.  Not at all.

 

{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: