It’s hard, sometimes, to keep track of where we are these days with technology, especially the everyday kind.
Take music, for example: We’ve got vinyl experiencing a minor resurgence in popularity, but eight-tracks are nowhere to be seen. Cassettes are done for outside of the occasional Bruno Mars video, as are MiniDiscs (they died quicker than betamax video). CDs are apparently on their way out–but I can’t bear to throw them away–and streaming services are approaching the point of being ubiquitous.
To complicate the streaming scene, are you listening on a phone? A tablet? A desktop? Or, and this one is new, a digital assistant like Google Assistant or Amazon Alexa?
In my house, we’re doing a little bit of all that. Well, mostly I am.
My wife, I like to think, enjoys being married to a husband who makes it all work. Well, technology wise, that is. She’s a successful tax accountant, an incredible wife, mother, and nana, and is someone who can do–and does–just about anything she sets her mind to.
All that said, she occasionally still asks me what kind of phone she has. As in, Android or iPhone? She sits on a computer all day at work, yet sometimes technology escapes her.
This morning, I’m standing at the sink listening to some music, not really thinking about much. Suddenly, she bursts into the room, proclaiming, “Hey Google, turn it up!”
The volume doesn’t go up. I’m listening through Spotify on my phone.
“Hey, Google, turn it up!” she commands, just a little bit louder this time.
As she’s getting ready to go louder, I tell her that it’s on my phone, not through the Google assistant.
Without skipping a beat, she looks at me and commands, “Hey, Tim, turn it up!” and walks back to what she was doing.
What do you know? That worked!
Let your love fly like a bird on a wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you’ll know what I mean
That’s the reason
The Bellamy Brothers, Let Your Love Flow, 1975