Monkey in the middle.
Urban Dictionary defines “monkey in the middle” as the person who is in the middle of two fighting sides. This person is friends with both arguing sides and wants to stay neutral but is eventually dragged into the fight, and one of the fighting sides becomes mad at them.
I will be fifty nine years old next month. I grew up loving to read. I read everything. I was thrilled when the new Scholastic Book Club circular, or anything like it, came home with me, to be lovingly perused and marked up with all the paperback books, Dell crossword books and dinosaur books that my parents would allow me to order. I was more thrilled when the shipments came in, giving me hours of pleasure like no other activity I enjoyed at the time. I was ecstatic when my parents bought the complete set of the Collier Encyclopedia, complete with annual updates, though I can now come clean and say that I wish they had bought the World Book Encyclopedia instead. Colliers seemed a bit too stodgy to an elementary schooler.
I simply loved the feel of the page. I loved the color glossy pages. I loved doing crossword puzzle after crossword puzzle. I loved the feel of the spine of a book nestled in my hands, the way new pages stuck together until you riffled them the first time, opening up the whole new world that was hidden in the infinitessimal spaces between the papers. I loved that tipping point that came when you knew by feel, without even looking at the page numbers, that you were just over halfway through a novel, and that it was all down hill from here. A race to the finish, the climax, the denouement, the satisfying completion of a mind journey that could have transported you anywhere in the universe.
I still love to buy books, to keep books, to shelve books that I just know I will read one day (sometimes do, sometimes don’t, let’s be honest). I still like to peruse the colorful pages of magazines, especially when I am tired and just want to kick back and do something familiar, something comfortable, something comforting.
I am a product of my age, my upbringing, my schooling, the modeling of my parents and mentors and teachers. I am an analog man in an increasingly digital world.
Now, I love my technology.
I have bought more iPads that I care to admit to. I have owned every desktop and laptop computer from a Micron to a Dell to an HP to a Radio Shack to Apples. I have lusted after the newest Sony PDA, upgraded to a Treo with a stylus, and was fascinated when I first heard about the marvelous little machine that was to be the first iPhone. “I’ve GOT to have one of those,” I remember saying when seeing the image of the prototype on my laptop screen. I have owned virtually every model of iPhone since 2007.
I get excited when thinking about moving next month and setting up a new wireless system in the condo. I am already salivating over wireless security systems and what might best serve our needs. I am constantly looking for the next excellent podcast, digital newspaper, newsletter, or blog to read. I love audiobooks. I listen to music on three streaming services, only one of which I actually have to pay for. I watch movies on my iPad, which has more pixels and a much better picture than my widescreen television.
I am a product of my age. I am a digitally connected man in a world that is watching analog constructs fade slowly into history.
I am the monkey in the middle.
I am listening to a fascinating audiobook right now that I would recommend to everyone. The Inevitable, by Kevin Kelly, looks in some detail at where we are headed, and why, in the next three decades. While I do not delude myself into thinking that I will still be around forty or fifty years from now, thirty is definitely doable. I get very excited when I think about the world that my grandchildren will be running, of which I may still be an active, though peripheral, part. The book speaks to the way that society and all its wonderful parts is morphing and continues to change over time, cataloging and saving and curating and dispersing and sharing and annotating knowledge and creativity and thought of every conceivable kind. It also speaks to the generation, MY generation, that finds itself squarely in the middle of two camps, one whose tenets are inscribed on cotton paper, and one whose bits and bytes are blinking and beeping into the future.
I am friends with both sides. I want to remain neutral.
It is going to be a fun ride for the next two or three decades, that is certain. I want to keep up, to remain relevant, to learn, to continue to produce and create and to learn to access the new technologies and the new paradigms as they present themselves. I very much want to keep working, to keep helping people through my vocation, to educate myself continually about advances in my field. I want to enjoy music and art and books and the vast amount of information that is the collective knowledge of our increasingly connected world. I do not want to become an old man who is too intimidated to reach out and try something new out of fear or ignorance or apathy.
I don’t mind being the monkey in the middle, as long as the game of keep away does not turn into a game of dodge ball.