The Year 2025. . .

So Ruby is 9 months old now!  I know -- it's insane.  She is crawling around, pulling up, and making lots of baby talk noises.  She has learned to wave, although she's pretty selective with her waves.  Count yourself lucky if you get a wave from her.  I also taught her how to put her hand up for a high five, but I think she promptly forgot.  She smiles and laughs so much, and we have so much fun together. 
Anyway, this post is not actually about Ruby's every move. 
A while back, Encylopedia Brittanica announced that they would no longer be printing those venerable books, first published in 1768.  I'll be honest -- I was kind of sad to hear that.  While I didn't grow up with Encyclopedia Brittanica, we did have a full set of 1980 World Book Encyclopedias.  My grandfather was an encyclopedia salesman for World Book and later for Grolier, which meant encyclopedias for Christmas!  I actually enjoyed looking through encyclopedias as a kid.  Do you guys remember using encyclopedias as sources for research papers in elementary and high school?
The fact that encyclopedias are succumbing to the internet age got me to thinking about what Ruby's childhood is going to look like.  When she asks me a question about a particular thing, saying "look it up" will mean Googling it, or perhaps even something different in 10 years in case Google doesn't make it. 

Obviously, there will be so many things about Ruby's childhood that will differ from mine.  That's the way progression works.  I'm thinking compact dics will be comparable to records in my day.  In the early 80s, records were on their way out in terms of the way most people got their music.  I had my own little record player as a young child, but those quickly gave way to cassette tapes.  (I must have completely skipped over 8 tracks.)  I think Ruby will know what cds are -- I have boxes and boxes of them and still listen to them in my car -- but I think she will view them as relics of her very young childhood.  Maybe one day they will come back into retro fashion the way records have.  (For the "record", I do have a record player with a stack of records.)

What else?  Will libraries eventually go out of fashion?  Ruby will probably get confused and then laugh at me when I tell her that I learned to type on a typewriter.  She will likely make fun of me when I sing along with the Cranberries or Counting Crows or even Ace of Base when they are playing on the oldies station. 

As you've probably guessed, I'm a sucker for nostalgia.  It makes me sad to see things from my youth disappearing.  It also scares me when I think about the differences between now and 1990 in terms of safety.  My mother used to send me to walk to the local grocery store.  I would never let Ruby do that.  It seems like every night on the news, there is a story about some pervert molesting or exposing himself to children.  (The fact that I realize I will likely be a "helicopter parent" is for another post.)

I guess I'm just feeling old.  I'm about to turn 32, and I'm realizing that Ruby and I are not going to have the same childhood experiences.  When she looks through my yearbooks, she will probably laugh at my hair (although with that perm I got in '91, who could blame her?). She will not understand how I made it through my youth without the internet or a cell phone.  (But I don't really know how she is going to make it without Oregon Trail.)  I doubt she will ever see the appeal that "Saved by the Bell" once had.

Or maybe she will.  Maybe, at least for a while, she will want to know all about the things I did as a child.  I know I did.  I poured over my parents' yearbooks and asked them all the time to tell me about what they were like as children.  Maybe she will ask me over and over again to tell her about the time at my 11th birthday party, my best friend and I staged a treasure hunt for our other friends (and managed to convince them it was the real thing) complete with a tea-stained treasure map and gold spray painted rocks.  Maybe she will be fascinated with my childhood, and hopefully I will let her have her own experiences -- flying cars, intravenous coffee, music downloaded directly to your brain.  You know, experiences in the year 2025.