Every few years my birthday cycles around to mid-week. On those years, it comes and goes without
much fanfare, punctuated by a few silly cards and a perfunctory dinner
out. This year was not a major
milestone—although at some point I think each birthday becomes at least a minor
milestone. I had low expectations.
But I was surprised.
Surprised, not by the pomp and circumstance; rather, by the very
different way in which this birthday was celebrated. It started early—well before decent people
are awake. I was awakened by the blare
of trumpeting heralds (my ‘Sherwood Forest’ text tone) announcing a message
from my daughter. She was at the tail
end of an all-nighter spent drawing Philadelphia row houses, but took a break
to wish her mama a happy birthday.
Once jarred awake, I took advantage of the opportunity to post
my daily blog to Facebook—a habit I’ve developed over the last 319 days. Firing up my laptop, I was instantly hit with
several birthday greetings from early birds—friends who posted their well-wishes
long before I could manage to peel my eyes open. Among these were a high school friend, a
college buddy, and a fellow amateur pianist.
Before returning to bed, I decided to check on the solar eclipse from
the day before, hoping to catch some great video clips. I popped open a new tab and entered ‘solar eclipse’
into the search engine. As the search
screen began building my options, I became aware only in retrospect of
something that had splayed across my vision—proving that the speed of light travels
infinitely faster than the speed of my brain.
I hit the back button and the standard Google screen sat idly before
me. No, that wasn’t it!
I hit the refresh button and watched while a primary-colored
Google logo stared back at me. Quite
certain that I had seen something else, I closed not only the tab but the entire
browser. Taking a cleansing breath, I
invoked the browser once again and asked for Google. This time I was rewarded. There, before me, was an elaborate screen
spelling out the iconic letters in colorful birthday cakes and confections,
each adorned with candles and sparklers.
My first thought was to Prince Charles, who was celebrating his birthday
today. Certainly, someone of royal stature had
to have inspired such a display!
Then, as my cursor hovered over the image, the words ‘Happy
Birthday, Ellen!’ popped up. Could it be
that this was all for me? Google had
sent me birthday cake, and it was completely carb-free! After a brief moment of utter joy, the
technical part of my brain came to its senses, pushing the delighted little
girl part of my brain down in the mud. In
order for Google to accomplish such a treat, I reasoned, they were obviously
availing themselves of personal information embedded in my computer. I thought back to the aggressive push by
Google to upgrade me to Google+, to the messages and disclaimers that
surrounded the process, including the now-familiar consent to use my personal information. I have since eschewed all applications on
Facebook that make similar requests, concerned that we innocent consumers do
not fully comprehend the extent to which a simple birthday calendar, farm game,
or travel application may be sucking our identities and putting them to
alternate uses. I fear that we are
secretly part of a larger social experiment, where Mark Zuckerberg and a panel
of aliens are using Facebook much like a two-way mirror, studying our responses
to electronic stimuli for fun and profit.
It was then I realized the extent to which birthdays have
been transformed by technology. Long
gone are the days of impromptu gatherings with neighbors or co-workers,
replaced by a barrage of cyber-wishes and e-gestures that span the years and
the miles. In addition to my Google cake
buffet, my birthday bounty is an embarrassment of e-riches: 3 “15% off” coupons from National retailers,
58 wall postings (from high school classmates, college friends, skating moms,
musicians, 6 cousins, and 3 in-laws), one singing video, one e-book, 5 text
messages, and a voice mail. Even the
lovely dinner my husband planned was precipitated by an e-vite.
It was a wonderful thing to hear from so many people on my
birthday. In a very true sense, my life
flashed before my eyes. I suppose even a
‘poke’ or a ‘tweet’ is better than letting go of the rich tapestry that
envelopes our lives. That being said, it
was a particularly special moment when my phone rang at 10:48 this
morning. My son, who goes to college
3000 miles away, set his alarm clock early to catch me before the start of his
classes. “Hi, mom!” he said, his voice
still thick with sleep. “I just wanted
to wish you a happy birthday.”
Now, that really pushes my buttons.
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