The End of the Excursion

         Although I began this project as a simple exploration of the various technologies that shaped my own literacy, I really encountered, at those places where technology and literacy intersected in my life, some of my most cherished childhood memories.  I initially worried that I would not be able to find enough representations of "technoliteracy" from my youth; now, I long for additional time to explore a more exhaustive list.  There are so many other items I could have included in this project...the ones I did include are my absolute favorites.  For me, this blog evolved from a college assignment into both a digital journal and digital scrapbook of sorts--something that I have enjoyed putting thought and time into and sharing with my own daughter.  If you don't yet have children, but think you might someday want some, think about saving a copy of your own memoir for them--they will be more fascinated than you can imagine!  And finally...thank you for taking this excursion into technoliteracy with me. 

The Professor

       

            Somewhere around the age of ten, I remember there being an “explosion” of handheld electronic games on the market (this is also around the time when Atari home video-game systems were released).  If I remember correctly, Merlin  and Simon  were among the most popular of the handhelds, and only the “coolest” kids owned them.  My parents (being those kind of parents who felt that every opportunity should be a learning one) purchased a Little Professor for me one Christmas, so that I could practice my addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.  I was horribly disappointed at first (I really wanted a Merlin—but got one later in the year for my birthday), but, actually, spent a great deal of time playing with that that bright yellow little toy.  I guess it couldn’t have helped that much, however…I am, after all, an Applied Arts and Sciences major, rather than a math genius majoring in engineering.  I didn’t even remember owning the Little Professor until Dr. Hillin showed us a Youtube video of her Speak-and-Spell, in class; there, in the corner of the video, I saw his smiling, wise little professor-y face, complete with mustache and glasses, and was instantly transported back to my childhood. 

And the Writing Begins!

          My father was employed as the branch manager of the local electric company, and typed up his reports for work on this rather awkward piece of machinery.  On occasion, Dad would allow me to sit at his desk and type away until my heart was content.  Apparently I was an aspiring novelist, because I loved to type up little stories and pass them around to my family members for their reading “enjoyment.”  One Christmas, while in high school, I received a more modern electric typewriter, and, in my mind, this really was the gift to top all gifts.  We didn’t own a computer at home (my high school didn’t even acquire computers—the old Commodore 64s—until my senior year), and I wore out many a typewriter ribbon on, what I was sure at the time, was the most "modern" of technologies.    

The "Technology" That Led to My Love of Reading

          I would have to include the local library of the little town in which I grew up on my technoliteracy list.  I was a regular there and had, at one time, read absolutely every available book in the children’s and junior’s sections.  I remember especially loving the Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys series.  Besides being one of the sweetest women I have ever encountered in my life, Ms. Bertha Knight worked as the librarian there.  She had been the sole librarian of that very small Groom Library for as long as anyone could remember (she must have been in her early 70’s even when I was a child), and she continued to serve in that capacity long after I grew up and moved away.  She was so beloved by the townspeople that the library was eventually renamed in her honor, after her death.  My cat “Softy” (perhaps the bravest cat in existence, as he would ride in the little basket on my bicycle with me most everywhere I went), was always welcome at the library with me (the local grocery store was not as accommodating of my dear friend—some "nonsense" about health code violations), and on those rare occasion when I did not sit cross-legged on the rug, in the middle of the library floor, with my cat in my lap and a book in hand, Ms. Knight would worriedly inquire as to his whereabouts.  As a kid, this all just seemed perfectly normal to me, but I look back now and marvel about the character of that wonderful lady.  The atmosphere of that little, country library (thanks to Ms. Knight) is one of the reasons that I am such an avid reader today. 

My First Writing "Technology"

     

            I was often frustrated with the limitations of being the youngest (the "baby") of four children (and the only girl!)--I wanted to do what the "big" kids could do!  When my older brothers would walk out the door for school, my mom would help soften the blow of my having to stay home ("Why can't I go to school?  I'm big too!") by practicing letters with me at the kitchen table on a Big Chief  writing tablet ("See--you're going to school, too!").  Practicing my letters on a Magic Slate  kept me busy, indefinitely, on long car rides, as well.

       

  
 Do you remember the Magic Slates?  They were decorated tablet-size pieces of cardboard with black waxy centers covered by a sheet of plastic film.  They came with a little red plastic "pencil" or stylus with which you wrote on the film.  The film would then adhere to the black wax wherever you "wrote" and letters or drawings would "magically" appear.  Of course, you were in deep doo if you lost your stylus, because nothing else seemed to write on them (I tried most everything!)--your only hope was to buy another Magic Slate.  When you were done writing on your Magic Slate,  you peeled up the film away from the wax, laid it back down, and started all over again with a "clean slate."    

       

          Son of Big Chief  writing tablets appeared on grocery store shelves a little later on (I seem to remember around second grade).  By that time, I was old enough to walk to the local grocery store--just a few blocks from our home--by myself, and buy them for only a quarter each.  On the way home, I would stop by the little bookstore, which also had an arcade and ice cream/soda shop inside.  There, you could get an ice cream cone for twenty-five cents, or buy twenty-five pieces of Double Bubble bubble gum for twenty-five cents (everything in those days seemed to cost a quarter!).  With my small, brown paperbag full of grape, green apple, and pink bubble gum in hand, I would head home and spend hours doodling in my Son of Big Chief  tablet, while chewing away madly on my gum, like some real-life version of Violet Beauregarde from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  The flavor of Double Bubble lasted, at most, ten minutes, so I could easily go through the entire paper bag of gum in one sitting.  It was marvelous!

That Was Tupperware?

          Ooops!...sorry, I have to backtrack here...I remembered something that appeared on my own personal scene long before Sesame Street.  In fact, I remember spending hours  playing with this simple, colorful little toy.  This is how I learned shapes, and I seldom tired of popping them into the ball, pulling it apart, dumping them on the floor, and then starting all over again--I bet my Mom loved that! (uh oh!--or did she worry about me?--you know that old saying about simple minds loving simple things?)  I loved this silly toy so much that when my daughter was born, I began to scour retail stores everywhere for one, but to no avail.  I was positive that this had been a Fisher Price toy; however, just about the time I gave up looking for them, my aunt informed me that this was a Tupperware toy--seriously???  I did, indeed, find it at Tupperware, along with its official name:  the Shape O' Toy  (you'd think they could have come up with something better than that)!  Apparently, I wasn't the only one who loved this toy, as Tupperware still makes them today. 

You can find your own Shape O'Toy at the following Tupperware online URL:

http://order.tupperware.com/coe/app/tup_show_item.show_item_detail?fv_item_category_code=7000&fv_item_number=P10054276000  

Tell Me How to, How to Get, How to Get to Sesame Street!

 

           Yep, it was around even when I was a kid!  Sesame Street  was created back in the 1960's (believe it or not!) causing me to now wonder if it could be television’s longest running show (surely, it must be?)...hmmm...food for thought.  Anyway, in those days, there were only three television networks:  ABC, NBC, and CBS (and we walked to school in the snow—no, wait, that really happened!  Okay, okay, I only lived three blocks from school, but there was some serious snow-walking going on).  At any rate, Sesame Street  appeared on…well...one of those three networks when I was little, although I can't now recall which.  So, long before I started kindergarten, I was singing numbers along with the Count, and spelling words aloud with Big Bird, Bert, Ernie, Grover...and all the others.  One Christmas, I even received a stuffed green, scowling Oscar the Grouch (I cried!—I wanted Cookie Monster!) to hold onto while I watched and sang along.  This, I think, is my (and probably many folk’s) earliest memory of Technoliteracy. 

Sesame Street online: 

http://www.sesamestreet.org/

 

Vestiges of Technoliteracy

          I grew up in the 1970's and 80's in Groom (yes…that really is the town’s name), a small farming community in rural northwest Texas, situated off of Route 66.  At one time, the city abounded with motels, gas stations, and restaurants, which catered to the heavy highway traffic; however, while I was still pretty young, a highway overpass routed motorists around town, causing Groom's rapid decline (see photo inserted below of an abandoned Route 66 gas station located in Groom).  Although this put more than a few heavy burdens on the adults of that town (most of those that stayed began commuting an hour away, to nearby Amarillo, for work), with numerous deserted streets, and an eventual population of less than 700, Groom became one of those uniquely obscure places that afforded kids the rare freedom of actually getting to be kids. 

         Summers were the best, as even from a very young age, I was allowed to leave the house as quickly as I could gobble down some breakfast (“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”), and didn’t have to be back at home until just before suppertime.  My friends and I would meet up in those streets where there was little, if any traffic, and while away the hours roller-skating, hop-scotching, or doing handstands and cartwheels down the road.  When we got tired, we would take turns going to one another’s houses, jumping on trampolines, playing games, or dancing to the catchy soundtrack from Grease  (we weren't allowed to actually watch the movie, and had no idea that the lyrics were slightly scandalous--but, then again, maybe our parents didn’t realize that either because we were still allowed to listen to the music).  When we were ready for a new adventure, we would head out on our bicycles riding all over town, or maybe to the city swimming pool where we could get in for 50 cents and could swim all afternoon long.  We were seldom in front of the television set during the week, except sometimes around 3:00 p.m., because Looney Tunes came on for 30 minutes, and that was usually a great time for a popsicle break. 

         So this was my summer existence from the time I was about seven, until I got my driver's license and first car (we then all "cruised" the “drag” listening to cassette tapes or the radio), and I look back more than fondly at these experiences (and maybe sometimes a little horrified--as I would have never let my seven year-old daughter roam all over town, even with friends).  And yet, our parents were not negligent.  On the contrary, we had very loving, involved parents who, somehow, always seemed to know exactly where we were, or what we were doing…sometimes even within a few minutes after we figured it out for ourselves...and how did they do that without cell phones?!  Actually, I suspected the “moms” had their own amazing phone-dialing abilities—on rotary  phones, no less!—keeping tabs on us thirty-something years ago with lightening precision that rivaled even that of today's cell phone moms.  I remember, on more than one occasion, walking back through my own door in the evenings (on days where my friends and I hadn’t hung out at my house) to hear my mom comment on my day: “I heard you fell off your bike today and scraped up your knee—are you okay?” 

         By now, you must be wondering:  “Okay, why this nostalgic journey back to your childhood?” and I am a little surprised myself at the long detour this particular blog has taken.  What was in my mind as I began this blog, and I think the direction that I was initially going with, is this:  I grew up in a much simpler time and place, and because of this, at first, I worried that I would not be able to find vestiges of “technoliteracy” in my early childhood.  But, as you will see, and as I discovered, even back in those “ancient” days (as my nieces and nephews call them) technoliteracy still abounded. 

The Project Begins!

     On the first day of Multimedia Writing class, when the crisp, new white syllabi were passed around and I perused the assignment list, I had to pause at the words:  Technoliteracy Memoir.  What in the world was technoliteracy?  I was a little intrigued…maybe even slightly apprehensive…but, of course, I didn’t have to wait long for the answer.  Technoliteracy, we quickly learned in class, is the intersection of knowledge and technology.  And this blog?—this “Excursion into Technoliteracy"?--this is my account of those times where the two came together in my own life.