Ryan ChartrandI have no qualms admitting it: I’m a geek.
Mostly I’m referring to my technological geekiness, which I’ve been spending some extra time cultivating lately. In the past couple of months I have acquired a new (very flat, very slim, very sexy) cell phone, an MP3 player (sleek, black and NOT an iPod!), and various accessories (one-gigabyte microSD card, card reader, Bluetooth dongle).
I know more than a few people (including some of my anti-tech friends) who are no doubt wrinkling their noses in disdain to see yet another poor young thing swept up by this confounded electronic revolution, dagnabbit. What in tarnation is this world coming to?
The exchange of information over the virtual lines has now blended seamlessly into modern culture. It feels as though ages have passed since I first took to e-mail, instant messaging, and surfing the Web. For better or for worse, Google is now a verb and text messaging has become our thumbs’ second nature. There isn’t an inch of our everyday lives that technology hasn’t touched.
Including relationships.
So let’s examine a term that I’m surprised hasn’t caught on sooner: the e-relationship.
(The first thing that probably comes to mind is the infamous Internet dating service. But there has been plenty of commentary on that. Personally, I’ve had enough of eHarmony and Match.com radio and TV commercials and online banners. I don’t care how many “levels of compatibility” they’re selling; I’d like a face-to-face connection with which to start a relationship, thank you very much.)
Electronic communication has introduced a whole new “level of compatibility” to the relationship stage. Whether you meet online or not, electronic media are key in the progress of a modern relationship.
It begins with some research, conveniently provided to you by facebook or MySpace (or both). Somehow you summon enough courage to dare a one-click facebook poke, and to your delight, he/she pokes you in return!
Things escalate as poking blossoms into facebook messaging, which naturally makes headway into a regular e-mail exchange, and between classes you rush over to the library or the kiosks in the UU to see if there’s a response awaiting you in your inbox.
One night, laptop in its namesake’s place, you dare to add him/her as a buddy on AIM. Your face flushes and your heart accelerates to see he/she happens to be online, right now! A conversation ensues for hours, and though you can barely pull yourself out of bed the next morning for that 7 a.m. torture, it was all worth it.
You trade cell phone numbers, and you can’t help but check every five minutes (before, after, and during class) for a text message from aforementioned object of love interest. Pretty soon, the numbers on the buttons are worn off, but it doesn’t matter, because you’ve got the keypad memorized and predictive text mastered.
Before you know it, you’re celebrating your six-month anniversary, and to show how much you cherish and appreciate his/her presence in your life, you buy him/her a Bluetooth headset. For Valentine’s Day, it’s a sporty new case for their iPod. And – for the one-year mark, to prove you’re really serious about this one – you add him/her to your friends and family plan.
But though the spark may indeed dwindle with time, it’s now possible to maintain a high-speed broadband connection to your honey. You can now be in constant contact with your significant other, all hours of the day, every day (except maybe during peak hours; but there are ways to get around that). But is that a good thing?
At one end of the reaction spectrum, there are the commitment-phobes who would rather hike to the Poly P just to chuck their cell phones from it than have a constant presence monitoring their every move (disclaimer: I’m explicitly discouraging such behavior). At the other end, there are the romantic idealists who grow so attached to their partners by electronic proxy, that perhaps these partners should be concerned about fidelity.
Of course, most of us are in-betweeners.
Personally, as a member of the LDR (long-distance relationship) club, being able to contact my boyfriend via e-mail/IM/text message/phone call helps tremendously with having to cope with the geographic separation. It enables us to share our lives even while we’re apart, and sharing – anything from the mundane to the miraculous – is a natural desire and vital component in any relationship.
But electronic communication is a temporary solution, and only a way to deal with the situation as it currently stands. It works well enough to hold us over until the next time one of us can make the two-hour-ish drive to visit the other.
There are a thousand or more different, subtle nuances in human interaction that you just can’t get from even the speediest connection. Electronics and electronic communication may have made a place for themselves in the world of the relationship; but take them for what they are: mere placeholders for real human interaction.
Why would anyone want an electronic intermediary to disrupt a pleasant face-to-face conversation; a quiet dinner at your favorite place; a night of channel-surfing; a stroll downtown?
Accept no substitute. No matter how overheated your processor may get, it won’t keep you warm at night.
Sarah Carbonel is an English and psychology junior and Mustang Daily dating columnist.