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Can you look back to some stupid things you did and be ever-so-grateful that there was not a means for sharing your ‘dos’ with the world? Well, of course, I don’t remember anything like that… except… well, I simply don’t remember!

If some of the same things that happened when I was a teenager, happened now, someone would have spread the news online and perhaps taken a picture for Facebook. One of the first dates I had was with… uh… well let’s say… Ricky. He had a one-seater car and there were four of us in it. That put me in the middle and my friend Dottie on her boyfriend’s lap. My date, the driver, decided to show me how to drive so he stopped the car and we swapped seats. I began driving and doing a very good job of maneuvering in the right direction. We made a slight turn and came upon the two separate tunnels under the large hill. I was headed into the correct tunnel. Ricky leaned across and grabbed the steering wheel from where he sat in the center. He laughed uproariously as he guided us through the tunnel of the oncoming traffic! Luckily, there was no oncoming traffic. Scared senseless, I never accepted his phone calls for a date after that. He was really handsome and I remember dozens of reasons why I wanted to answer his calls but the ‘what-if’ of that incident never left me.

The very things I used to enjoy about a telephone, having a computer, using the internet, and checking on Facebook to see what my friends had to say, have slowly gone the way of all things. Sometimes now we see, in our expert communication abilities, too much interest and too many people trying to stay in touch (not necessarily for the right reasons).

In the society described by Orwell, everybody is under total surveillance by the authorities via telescreen, and readers are reminded of this by the phrase “Big Brother is watching you.”

It generally takes three rings of the telephone for me to answer. Ten percent of the calls are reminders of appointments; 10 percent are business; 30 percent of the calls are from friends; and when I answer the other 50 percent of the calls, it takes a minute for the telemarketer’s rotation to get to my number. By then, I have hung up. I’ve recently been told that my name was in a drawing and I may have won a car. Very exciting! But, oh well, my car still takes me where I want to go.

Do you remember this song? Take it to heart and… enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think.

Kitty Maiden is a staff writer for Seniors Today.