I was perusing the paper the other day when I noted a story on the attention span of the younger generation. What made it particularly interesting was that it was about an NFL team abandoning its two hour sessions on their playbook. It seems that the new players can’t give up their smart phones or other electronic devices for that long. Their mind soon wanders and they lose their concentration.
To overcome this cultural change, the team now breaks the two hour sessions into four thirty minute sessions with ten minute breaks in-between. This gives the poor souls a chance to catch up on what has happened in the thirty minutes in their deprived mode. Can you imagine what Lombardi or Bear Bryant would say to that concept? Since this is a family publication, I cannot even allude to their descriptive language which would have been certain to explode from their voice boxes.
It is probably a good thing that their mothers – or grandmothers are not there. I know in my case, if we are out with other people or at a function or perhaps a class that I had better not bring out my iPhone. If The Blonde in the house is close enough, I risk getting a bruised shin. If she is not, then I receive the dreaded “evil eye” – which is enough to make even a tough football player squirm. There is no question that life keeps changing, and this is but one example.
Some things do not change though. One of them involves The Blonde in the house who I just mentioned and it deals with her directional abilities, which are more or less non-existent.
I think that one of the reasons that she keeps me around is making certain that she does not get lost – which is something that can occur with some frequency. I have to be very careful in drawing up directions so that there isn’t any question that can arise from them.
Even with that caveat, things can go awry. I recall one time I gave her specific directions on how to get to Harbor Hills. I made the grave error of not giving her specific directions back to The Villages. I am not certain where she ended up, but she finally stopped along a road and went over to a farmer working in his field to ask him how to get back. He was apparently a good direction giver (probably from experience with his wife) as she eventually made it back home a little the worse for the wear, but back nevertheless.
It was not always my fault as there was the time we lived in New Jersey when she went to pick up our son at a friend’s house. She knew the way, but unfortunately right before she got there, the police were directing traffic and would not let her go the way she wanted. Instead they directed her down a ramp on to a four lane highway. When she didn’t return well past the normal time, I called the friend who said that she had not arrived.
I was ready to call the police, when she finally showed up – sans son – and madder than a wet Persian cat at the police. She had apparently gone down the four lane highway for several miles before getting off and finding how to come back to our humble home. I then went to the friend’s house and picked up our son who had been having a good time. I could go on with comments like her favorite car that we ever had was a yellow one as she could find it in a parking lot. The one before our present car was white. There are a considerable number of white cars in Florida which often led to a high degree of confusion as to where the car was parked.
As noted, I could go on, but if I do, I may receive the evil eye after she has read this. Therefore, I will close on a note of optimism. For most of our married life, when we came through a door out of a store, hotel room or from whatever, she would make an immediate left. It did not matter where we needed to go, it was an automatic left turn. However, suddenly that is no longer the case. Now she stops dead center and looks around before she turns left! I do believe that my years of direction giving is starting to bear fruit.
Pretty soon she will be telling me where to go!
Barry Evans writes about Life in The Villages for Villages-News.com