EARLY Generation X-ers like me have been blessed with a grandstand view of the IT revolution; we’re old enough to remember when everything was analogue, but young enough that we’ve been able to embrace the changes.

My big brother was a computer geek before it was ever fashionable. He had a Commodore 64 hooked up from the early ‘80s. I had a company mobile phone from the late ‘80s and entered the world of email midway through the ‘90s.

Now, in 2011, I’m an iPhone-addicted, social-media freak. I check emails while I’m out, I track my cycling via a phone app and I’ve posted 11,000 or so tweets to my 2100 followers.

But I’m thinking that, maybe, we’re a little too reliant on technology.

If you didn’t have your mobile phone with you, how many often-called numbers could you actually remember? Probably none!
You don’t have to remember anymore; you don’t have to know how to spell, which way’s north or what the time difference is in Queensland.

And there are some technological quantum leaps that I will never make – I’m never getting a GPS in my car and, although I’ve got an iPod, I’m never going to do my shopping while listening to it.

I hate driving in Sydney, but I revel in the experience of plotting my route in the “UBD” and arriving at my destination without anyone telling me how to get there.

Yes, I’m one of those blokes who hates asking for directions. The GPS challenges my manhood. I fear that we are creating an entire generation of drivers who are not capable of even driving to the corner shops without a voice telling them when to turn.

As far as the iPod goes, I understand that cities like ours create a social disconnect in day-to-day life, so why would anyone increase that disconnect by cutting off all audio from the outside world while you’re out and about? How is it possible to interact with the outside world when you’re being bombarded inside with sound? Maybe I’m just showing my age.