Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, December 26, 1994 TAG: 9412270050
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A11 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
At a party the other night, a group of them profusely praised the wonders of e-mail. "It's almost like a conversation in real time," one said, referring to exchanges with an acquaintance in Japan.
I thought, but didn't say, "A conversation without the inconvenience of a voice." (I, by the way, don't know anyone in Japan.)
They lauded, too, the wealth of available information. Facts, references, details, factoids, endorsements, opinions, gossip. Hundreds of colleges and universities, putting their reputations on the line.
I asked, "How do you know whom to trust?"
They told me that after you've read the various sources for a while you recognize their biases. And you come to know which "speakers" are looney-tunes.
I wondered, "Have I that much free time?"
On the spot, I decided I'm still right in my restraint.
But I must admit that they used a lingo I kept losing track of. Perhaps they answered all my questions, allayed all my fears, and I just didn't know it.
Sitting on the back of my desk is a clutch of free-offer disks for various on-line services. Several are gifts. "Get on-line," the accompanying notes have urged. "Then we could correspond by e-mail!"
On the other hand, we could - and do - pick up the telephone. Use a stamp. See each other for lunch.
One of my on-line offers came from a friend who's published poems in an on-line literary magazine. She sent me copies of her "publications," too. On disk.
I've read them. As in most literary magazines, the quality of the work is uneven. My friend's work is very nice, though. I scrolled through it two or three times.
But suppose I wanted to take a look at her poems again tonight before I go to bed? I'd have to put on my shoes, walk up the hill in the dark to my office, fire up the ol' computer, pop in the disk. Will I want to see them that much?
Will I ever in my life want to read something enough to do that?
Yes, I admit it: I'm a curmudgeon. A dinosaur One of the ones who'll be left behind as we enter the 21st century.
But if you want to tell me that, you'll have to write me a letter. I have no e-mail address.
Listen. While Christmas shopping, I kept dating my checks "1990." I lost track of how many I had to tear up. I might just as well have written "1968." Either of those years seems as real to me as the one we're currently in. But about to leave.
I'll admit, I would like to be able to scan libraries' card catalogues from the convenience of my own home. (Of course, no actual "cards" are any longer involved.) But I'm sure that even if I did that, I'd still find the most interesting books by wandering through the aisles.
Books. That's what I really want. What I still want.
I find myself reading more and more history these days. Tomes. Volumes. Manuals. Primers.
There's nothing new under the sun, you know. Even on Internet.
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times & World-News columnist.
by CNB