I can still feel the boredom of riding in ”the middle” of the back seat of my parents’ 1974 orange Datsun–without a car seat or even seat belt because they weren’t yet the law, let alone, safety features–and whining, ”are we there yet?” and 30-seconds later, “when are we going to be there!”
“In a little while,” my parents assured me.
Then, what seemed like an hour later–but which was probably eight minutes later–I’d ask again, this time with sing-songy cadence, “when are we going to be there?” This whining and pestering would continue at least a half a dozen more times.
When they were fed up with the repetitive questioning, my parents would engage me in games of “20 Questions” or “I Spy” until I was spent. Then I’d sprawl out across the back seat–no seatbelt laws or siblings afforded great comfort–and take a nap until we finally got “there.”
Today, with DVD players for those long car trips, SMS for doctors’ waiting rooms and CNN at airport gates, Digital Natives never experience boredom. “Always on” is their way of life. Life is faster-paced, days are jam-packed and the Internet never sleeps.
At Digital Media Wire’s NY Games Conference a few weeks ago, I heard a panel of teens talk about how they play certain video games–mostly the old arcade games like Mario Brothers that we found invigorating and competitive–to relax. 97% of teens game. It’s common for teens to game 2 1/2 hours per day. They watch less than 1/2 hour of TV per day. Interactive is their way of life…and their way of rest. Their brains are wired differently. Maybe they don’t need the “veg” time that we Digital Immigrants still crave.
Today, withister bopping to Hannah Montana on her iPod, brother watching Shrek on the portable DVD player and dad working on his laptop while mom drives, there is no time for–no need for–”passing the time” with the mundane family banter and games that helped us to survive these car trips when we were kids. Digital Natives’ memories of car trips will be neutral, if nonexistent. They won’t remember that “that was the car trip when I watched Shrek,” because that was probably the 24th time they watched that movie.
Though the long car trips that we grew up with were annoying at the time, they were terrific family bonding experiences, just like (well, actually not really at all like) Chevy Chase’s movie, National Lampoon’s Vacation, and its sequels. I wonder how today’s lack impromptu, undefined cartrip dialogue is changing the connections between family members. Perhaps it’s alienating, perhaps it’s a relief from forced togetherness in tight quarters.
But what about the truth of the saying, “it’s about the journey, not the destination”? I feel torn about the rules I create for my own children about the ambient time of the journey. On one hand, I feel that they should “suffer” like I did and learn to occupy themselves with their own thoughts and time together with me, my husband and each other (and perhaps because I secretly have fond memories of the laughs that my parents and had from reading aloud the sides of trucks on I-95). On the other hand, why should they pass their time listlessly or with mundane chatter when MP3s and the mobile Web provide more engaging, entertaining and educational ways to occupy themselves?
