by Mary Wakefield Buxton –
URBANNA — I blinked at my teenager grandchildren as I was busy preparing for the Christmas day supper.
They were seated, or rather draped, on various pieces of furniture in the gallery, oil portraits of ancestors staring down at them, buds planted in their ears, filling TikTok brains with not the “Nutcracker Suite” or Christmas carols, but punk rock that daily dosed them with negative messages at every stanza — mostly how lonely, hopeless and miserable life is, how no one understands them, how others will miss them when they’re gone — brain “junque.”
I saw how they silently clutched all that was sacred, the most important object in their life — their handheld devices — and stared hungrily, desperately, into their phones, as if all life would end if another text didn’t arrive at that very second, awaiting breathlessly for another senseless message — “Jimmy has a new girlfriend, awesome!” “Kenisha got a new computer for Christmas, whoa!” “Jimmy has the bug and might miss the party ….”
But the day was saved when Aunt Liz started Sequence and two of them enjoyed learning a new card game.
Yet, there was much silence on Christmas day among cousins that had not seen each other since summer. They had something better to do, await the next text drivel instead of wasting energy in conversation, and listening to hard rock as it bounced along the cells in their heads.
I wonder as I write this if American teenagers today can talk in complete sentences, beyond abbreviated text lingo like “ICU,” “Hi Dude,” “You Guys” or “IMHO” let alone use subjects, gerunds, correct pronouns after direct objects and the like, DUH? And read a book? Are you kidding me? Are you suggesting there is life beyond a computer screen?
My vision came the night after Christmas, in the form of a strange dream. Plato appeared in a Grecian robe as if caught strolling down the agora and he spoke to the teenagers.
“Would my system in “the Republic” work better with a philosopher king in charge instead of your system of elected professional politicians that too often use public office to enrich themselves?” The teenagers dismissed the man, a nut case, whoever heard of Plato? Like, was he some sort of rock star?
A bright star blinked in the Christmas sky. The children were blinded by the light and shielded their precious handheld devices from the glare. “Peace on earth, good will to men!” they heard from the heavens on high. “What’s that all about?” they asked before returning to their text messages to learn what was Sophia’s or John’s favorite Christmas gift.
Another Greek, (Please!) … some guy called Aesop, entered the scene. “Who knows,” he asked, that one might not be able to steal an entire clump of grapes but the grapes can still be stolen, one grape at a time?”
“Stupid!” shouted the teens. “Throw the maniac out!”
Next figures from Mother Goose appeared much to the teens amusement. Was it Mary and her little lamb or Little Jack Horner who stood in the corner or Peter, Peter, the Pumpkin Eater that they enjoyed the most?
“What imbecilic rhymes our parents learned!” they cried. “What a colossal waste of time!”
Then characters in fairy tales arrived but no one knew them — Rapunzel who had let down her long hair, Little Red Riding Hood and the Three Little Pigs where only one had built a house strong enough to protect them from the Big Bad Wolf. He was still puffing. The teenagers laughed in scorn.
Then the characters from literature appeared, Hamlet, asking them to consider the most important question of their entire existence … “to be or not to be?” … MacBeth telling how blind ambition had done him in, and Julius Caesar warning that his best friend had stabbed him in the back…just more useless lessons the teens had never learned.
Then the great American leaders appeared, one by one, saying their famous quotes … “I regret that I have only one life to give for my country!” … “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” … “With malice toward none, with charity for all,” … “I shall return!” … “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country!” … “I have a dream!” … “All lives matter!”
The children stared at the parade of men and women, they rolled their eyes and retuned to more important messages. “Hot news! Sandy broke up with Jim!” That message was so important it had thousands of “likes.” But a famous American general from World War II came on the scene with a most appropriate response — the same response he gave the Nazis when they demanded he surrender his troops. “NUTS!”
A solar flash struck Earth suddenly as if the sun itself was in a temper and all the grids on Earth went dead. The teenagers stared at their empty screens and cell phones. They turned to their dead videos, TVs, radios and cars. What would they do now that they had lost all contact?
As if answering a call for help, a weird man named Pied Piper appeared with his magic flute. The children had never heard of him but they liked his music and since they had no other interest they followed him by the tens of thousands, mindlessly, walking off with their new master like lemmings … but, then, they did not know what lemmings were or what happened to them.
© 2023.
(Welcome to “One Woman’s Opinion,” a long-term feature of the Southside Sentinel, written by Urbanna resident Mary Wakefield Buxton. Traditionally a humorist, Mary has written a column on all subjects and sometimes in very serious vein. Along with writing a column for the Sentinel since 1984, she is also author of 15 books about life and love in Tidewater, Virginia.)
