When it got around to me on the grapevine that Steven Jobs had introduced the latest iPad, I was scared. I knew already since that I didn’t have an iPhone, iPod, or a laptop to call my own, I was below the standard of living. In my Macroeconomics class, my teacher made this simple statement: “People who raise their own chickens to eat are living under the poverty line.” I knew I was in trouble.

Personally, I love technology. I do cyberschool, so I work on the computer at least 3 hours a day. I watch a TV with my family. We don’t have a flat-screen, plasma television like all of my friends, I have a boob tube that we bought in New York on a vacation to replace our old boob tube. Just a month ago, we got a fridge that had an icemaker in it. Then, last week, my Dad was paid to get an iPhone 3.

But that’s not what terrifies me. The fact that my own friends call me “a dirt farmer” or “hick” or “goat-herd” ticks me off. Why do I need an XBox 360 and a brand-new Mac to have fun? Because I just came inside from shoveling last week’s rabbit poo off the ground, and I felt pretty happy, heck, I had fun.

Now I’m sitting writing this article with knitting in front of me. Something that seperated me from the crowd, made me “grandmothery” and “old.” Heck, if you are on the grandmother thing, you can pop down in the fridge and take a slice of pumpkin bread that I baked today. I’ve only spent about an hour in front of the TV today.

But anyway, if people expect me to use tech to have their so-called idea of “fun,” what am I going to call the happy hours spend sitting with my goat at the top of my hill? What will I call the picnik trip we took out in Tioga county? What will I call supper at the table? Boring?

 That is the kicker. That my idea of “fun” isn’t like other people’s idea of fun. I have a Wii. In fact, yesterday I used it for the first time since August. (Been busy having “boring” times with my goat, you see…)

Above all else, I am terrified of what will happen to my children. If I can manage to “rebel” (Lord! What an ironic thing for a non-rebellious teen to say!) long enough to have children, be married, and live at home, and manage to keep to the simple life, while I have a crapload of goats and the garden the size of half a youths’ soccer field, how could I prevent my own children from being carried away in technology and not relish the simple things in life? What will I do then?

Goodness gracious. Looks like I’m in way over my head.