Managing the Monster

Does your cell phone rule you? Or are you Lord of the Laptop?

A dramatic change has overtaken our culture in the last ten years. Whether you like it or not, it seems electronics are glued to people everywhere. Or rather, we are glued to them. iPhones & Blackberries are pulled from the pocket every few moments during dinner conversations; family gatherings are disrupted by quick stops to the kitchen computer for an email check or a Google search; and laptops have all but replaced coffee dates at the caffeine bar of choice. Just a few days ago I sat in a Starbucks off of 5th Avenue in Lower Manhattan and every single person was on a laptop or reading from a PDA. While my friend and I managed a few spartan words between each other, we eventually joined the masses and pulled out our mobile phones to check email, texts, voice mail, FaecBook, and Twitter.

The question is, what did we do before them?

While I could wax eloquent like the miserable but charming post-modernist Frank Navasky from You’ve Got Mail (Meg Ryan’s character’s boyfriend), convincing you I’m actually writing this from an Olympia Report Deluxe Electric typewriter, I’m not, nor am I going to. That’s idealism. And it’s pointless. Unless you want to become Amish. I’m on my 21″ iMac, and my iPhone 3GS is in comfortably in my jean’s pocket. And I’m proud of it. But the question remains, have we forgotten how to think for ourselves without the interweb? Can we define who the Soviets were without the use of a search engine? And better still, can we still carry on a conversation with other carbon-based life forms in the flesh without texting them to initiate the dialog?

Ultimately, the question is, “What are you doing to rule the beast?” As a guy who loves technology, and openly embraces its profound positive affects on my life, I’ve had to come face to face with the fact that I wasn’t doing enough to rule over it, and need to be ever vigilant of the monster. A 40-day media fast taught me a lot: making sure to keep my computer out of my home a few days a week; limiting my time on my iPhone for things other than phone calls (which I hate talking on the phone); and making sure I’m spending time staring at my wife and childrens’ faces rather than a flat, lifeless screen.

Technology isn’t going anywhere. If anything, its role in our lives will only increase. And rightfully so. We become more efficient, more informed, and more connected, allowing us to reach Kingdom objectives more quickly than any time in history. That’s because technology is God’s invention, not ours. But making sure the animal stays in its cage can be more challenging than we might think.

What are you doing to keep the monster at bay? Care to share some of your tips with us?

When Monster Chases Turn Ugly

cooking spray

In honor of Luik’s 3rd birthday today, I think it only fitting that I share a recent story about him.

One of the most frequent games played in the Hopper household is “Monster,” (with “Wrestling” being a close second). Because our ground floor is circular in design, I am able to chase the kids around the house, hoist them off their feet, and slam them into any number of couches, all-the-while playing the part of a ferocious, flesh-eating monster. (I love my job).

The game started out with Eva a few years ago, when she was just learning to walk. Something about a full grown roaring man scaring the pee out of a one-year old just sounds wrong. No wonder we grow up with issues. Of course, Eva’s top speed was about 2mph. A speed which I could easily keep up with. Now, however, she’s turned out to be quite the athlete. Thus today’s version of Monster is a full-out NASCAR race around the house, with daddy getting hurt far more often then the zippy, dwarfish Oompa-Loompas with a lower center of gravity.

The other night Eva was careening through the kitchen when suddenly she hit the floor. Down. I mean hard. I didn’t even have time to reach out for her.

Scream. Tears.

Then Luik came around the corner. Staring.

I could see him thinking. Putting it all together. Then a little smile crept over his face.

I stooped down to help Eva up when I noticed the floor was slick. I mean like someone sprayed silicon on the bottom of Chevy Chase’s sled. And that’s when I noticed the bottle of cooking spray on the ledge beside the stove. Then smelled my fingers. Artificial butter.

“Luik, did you spray this on the floor?”

“Yey!”

I do my best to stifle a deep laugh, but Jennifer bursts out hysterically behind me. Great. Reinforcing my son’s sabotage of his big sister. Now I’m laughing.

Eva takes it upon herself to start cleaning it up with a towel while Luik looked on. The next thing I know, Eva falls right on her face. Again. And Luik is no where to be seen.

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Happy birthday, Luik. I love you and all your sweet international spy skills. ch: