Texting and Driving

Amy Gentile

Did you notice the AT&T people end each call now with please stop texting and driving.  A few weeks ago, it was, please don't--   text and drive.  But now it’s, “Please stop.”  Like they’ve given up on us.  They know we already are texting and driving.  It’s like if your mother said instead of, “please don’t do drugs,”--   “Sweetheart, stop doing drugs.” 

I bet most people under 60 have texted while driving, even if they did it with voice recognition and talking into their phones.  That’s how I was doing it, to remind my daughter to turn off her curling iron, or to ask the babysitter to make Thomas read for fifteen minutes before bed.  Only in a pinch. 

But the thing is, I remember a time not too long ago, when things had to wait.  You had to wait to get to a landline.  You had to hope for the best.  You had to wait and see if someone remembered whatever it was they might forget.  And I remember being unavailable.  People in my generation went away from home without phones and survived.  Our parents survived.  But what scares me is that young people today are growing up without having known a time when no one was expected to be totally connected, totally reachable, all the time.  It's a lot to handle. 

 

I make my teenagers put their phones on the counter at dinner and after a certain time at night, but my request is frequently met with horror:  I’m in a group conversation!  What if someone talks to me and I don’t reply?? 

 

 Oh no.  Maybe they’ll unfriend you.

See, this feeling of urgency, this need to reply immediately has so many implications.  For adults, it also may mean your boss can always reach you.  Your students or customers or patients can always reach you.  It leaves working people vulnerable to finding themselves essentially being required to be “in work” or "on call" all the time. 

 

 I think the generation gap has shrunk to fewer than five years now, because of the rapid advancements in technology.  Each new advancement has a major impact on daily life and habits.  Colleagues only five years younger than I could not believe there was no internet when I went to college.   They looked at me like I needed a cane.  How can we possibly adapt so quickly to all these changes?  One thing is clear:  adapting poorly has dire consequences, beyond the destruction of family time.

My best friend got married a few years ago, and her niece was in the wedding party with us.  She was cute.  She was only twenty then.   And a young twenty.  I never once saw her without a beaming smile.  Anyway, several weeks ago on October 31st at 3:35 in the afternoon, she crossed the yellow line on a main route and hit a pick-up truck head on.  It is unclear as to what may have distracted her.  But, now she’s gone. 

 

So, I stopped texting and driving, like the lady said.  I won't do it anymore.  Not even to remind my daughter to check her curling iron.