When children of the Internet grow up I’m an older millennial, which means I remember the days when we used our dial-up modem to log on to AIM and chat with our friends. We had to make sure no one was on the phone and we’d scream if they picked up the phone while we were connected. As I’m imagining it now, actually, it’s amazing that we had to multitask that way—you could either be on the Internet or your phone (now you are always doing both). Nevertheless, I grew up on the Internet and have been chatting and blogging since then. And somehow, even though I am fairly online, I am not nearly as conversant in the lingo as some of my friends—which is why I’m always asking what things mean (I’ll spare you those details, because they usually begin with mockery of my ignorance—in good fun, of course). And I’m also not as adept at the technology—which is I mistakenly group call the chats I’m in (that’s when they call me “dad”).
Why I’m done saying “OK Boomer”
Why I’m done saying “OK Boomer”
Why I’m done saying “OK Boomer”
When children of the Internet grow up I’m an older millennial, which means I remember the days when we used our dial-up modem to log on to AIM and chat with our friends. We had to make sure no one was on the phone and we’d scream if they picked up the phone while we were connected. As I’m imagining it now, actually, it’s amazing that we had to multitask that way—you could either be on the Internet or your phone (now you are always doing both). Nevertheless, I grew up on the Internet and have been chatting and blogging since then. And somehow, even though I am fairly online, I am not nearly as conversant in the lingo as some of my friends—which is why I’m always asking what things mean (I’ll spare you those details, because they usually begin with mockery of my ignorance—in good fun, of course). And I’m also not as adept at the technology—which is I mistakenly group call the chats I’m in (that’s when they call me “dad”).