Family dot com

Remember the “nuclear family?” That’s the term for the modern family, in which kids leave the nest at 18, and parents are shelved off in institutions instead of being cared for at home in their golden years. The traditional family—which is still alive and well in the Philippines, for example—is referred to as the “extended family.”

Well, many on Saipan are part of the newest family of all: the Cyber-Family. Yes, folks, we’re talking the cutting edge of societal evolution.

Most people living on Saipan are thousands of miles away from their families. Parents, siblings, even spouses, are merely electronic waves coming over the telephone, or, increasingly, merely represented by alpha-numeric characters in e-mail messages.

People used to smile at each other. Now we just type little smiley faces in an e-mail.

My Cyber-Family theory took root when I phoned Dad for Father’s Day. We generally e-mail each other, so a real, live phone call was nice. Dad referred to some e-mail he got from my brother. My brother and I e-mail each other but never call: e-mail is easier. It’s cheaper, too. Dad often e-mails after reading my column online. Yeah, Pop, that’s my picture, that’s what I look like now: a Cyber-Son.

Used to be that fathers and sons would meet for coffee somewhere to kick start the day. Now we log onto web sites from opposite ends of the globe.

Mom, on the other hand, doesn’t usually e-mail, and I’ll confess I don’t keep in touch like I should. But how on earth can you communicate with someone who doesn’t live on e-mail?

In fact, my entire circle of friends seems to be getting its perimeter redrawn by e-mail. Yes, indeed: Cyber-Friends. I’ve kept in touch with those who are online; I haven’t with those who aren’t. Sometimes I get a real, live letter in the mail (“snail mail”) and I think, “Goodness! How touchingly archaic.”

A decade ago I used to hate all these connectivity geeks, who pontificated about the magic of e-mail and the Internet, and who looked down on the rest of the “non-wired” world. Then one fateful afternoon I used a friend’s computer and logged onto the Internet for the first time and—zap—hello, world.

I’ve maintained my determination, however, not to be condescending to the non-wired masses. But it’s pretty difficult sometimes. A lot of us have lingering doubts about friends who just can’t seem to figure out how to use e-mail. I have a sneaky suspicion that they’re dimwits. Professionally, I refuse to have anything to do with the non-wired; they don’t merit a second thought.

And on this elitist note, I do, I admit, favor the written word over the spoken one. I always have. It takes less brains to talk than to write, which is why idiots insist on talking so much. As if you needed me to tell you that…

Writing, furthermore, conveys far more information per unit of time than yacking does. I’ll be happy when humanity finally evolves to the point where our vocal chords atrophy entirely, and after baby takes his first steps, he’s typing 100 words per minute on the QWERTY board.

So far the Internet is the one piece of infrastructure that isn’t suffering on Saipan, and that’s one blessing that a lot of folks do heed. Someday, the entire island will be one big Wi-Fi network, and then we can really call it “paradise,” and my family can all visit…

…via web cam, that is.

(Ed Stephens Jr. is an economist and columnist for the Saipan Tribune. E-mail him at Ed4Saipan@yahoo.com.)