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Inklings: Listening and learning

Published Thursday, January 28, 2010 12:45 PM

By Barbara Lynch Hill
Summerville Journal Scene ®

I heard Jim pick up the phone the other day. “Hello,” he repeated calmly several times. This wasn’t like him. If the phone rings and someone doesn’t immediately speak, Jim figures it’s an electronic message, selling or soliciting something and after one cordial “Hello” he delivers a brisk “Goodbye.”

But he was unusually tolerant with this caller, so I went into the family room to find out what was going on. Jim patiently kept trying to get a response, but eventually gave up, replaced the phone and started laughing.

“Who was that,” I asked. “Adam,” he answered, continuing to chuckle.

Adam is our 14-month-old grandson. He doesn’t talk. But he walks. Apparently he walked over to his dad’s cell phone, climbed up and punched the right button to ring our number. He babbled into the instrument and continued to press buttons sending various beeps and squeaks our way. His grandfather finally recognized his pediatric style deep breathing, bubble blowing and other background noises and identified the caller.

Later Jim rang our son David to report this missive, and learned that he had left the cell on his bed where it was fair game for Adam, but had no idea his progeny had been experimenting in the airways. I relayed this story to a friend who said his three-year-old daughter has long since mastered his cell and actually gives him advice on some of its applications.

That made me feel better. I’ve been known to seek guidance from some of our older grandchildren re my computer as well as my cell. These kids play keyboards and keypads like concert pianists. And they understand what they’re doing. Worse than that, they’ll tell me, “No problem, Grandma Barbara, it’s really simple!”

Right!

Grandma Barbara never met a computer until she was nearly a grandma. I already had six grands by the time I got my own cell. These kids pick up electronic vibes in the delivery room and there’s no stopping them. It’s their mother tongue, absorbed from babyhood. Those of us born B.C., (Before Computers) – which is what cell phones have morphed into – have had a lot of catching up to do. These days things change so fast that catching up seems to need to occur at warp speed.

In the matter of telephones, this instrument, once mounted to a wall and then made to sit on a flat surface, stayed on that wall or surface and you went to it to use it. The phone did just one thing – allowed you to have a two-way conversation. Today’s hand-helds with their intriguing names, go everywhere with us and can electronically manage our lives with a myriad of apps. (At least I’ve learned some jargon.)

I admit I’m from the generation that’s afraid I’ll “do something wrong” if I experiment. And I have been known to loose material or lock-up some program and have to call for help – usually from some extraordinarily young descendant. (Redial instruction is surely on my horizon.)

But Adam has the most updated approach. Just walk over, pick it up and punch all the buttons until you figure the thing out. I won’t be surprised if in the not too distant future, I’m not calling him on his cell for advice.

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