What Happened Before Social Media?By Lisa Groves on Tue, 03/05/2013 - 13:01
As I updated my status this weekend and checked into a local restaurant, I got to thinking, “What happened before social media”?
I am now quite addicted to checking my Twitter feed and browsing my friend’s pictures on Facebook. On weekends when I am sitting at home I can inflate my self-importance by knowing that others are interested in sending me online messages and “liking” my updates. My social life is listed on my ICal and events feeds, so how did I survive before I had an IPhone?
Years ago, I used to station myself on my parent’s telephone table in the hallway of our house, I dialled and spent an hour on the phone to my friends as my Dad made frantic gestures about his phone bill.
I would spend weekends writing letters to my relatives about what I had done with my life in the last month, instead of tap out a quick email as I catch up on Corrie.
I was a member of the local Youth Club and my Mum would ferry me around in her Ford Escort, so I could catch up with my friends. I also made other friendships by chatting to people face to face, instead of wondering why “Jim Smith” is still clogging up my Facebook feed when I met him on a holiday six years ago?
Every Saturday lunchtime I would arrange to meet my peers in Bristol town centre to go for a Wimpy burger and a gossip. Heaven help you if your bus was ever late, as I did not have a mobile phone, so there was no way of rearranging. Instead, I would have to walk around Bristol City Centre hoping I could second guess where they were, wandering the racks of Miss Selfridge hoping to spot the girls gathered around the latest Twilight Teaser lipstick. I carried a notebook to write down telephone numbers and often had to call home from a payphone and reverse the charges due to missing the last bus. How easy it now is to send a text. Although, saying that, if I was texting my Dad to pick me up, I think he might be a bit miffed!
So, as I pick up my phone to answer my emails, text and post a pic to Twitter, I remember the days queued up in the pouring rain with a 10 pence piece hoping someone at home would hear the phone ring.