Dialogue: Time-savers make life busier

A studious six-year-old I know was assigned a sign-of-the-times homework project, which involved listing "things that can be programmed."

Her list was extensive, covering not only television and video-type appliances but also burglar alarm, cellphone, microwave, the breadmaker, car CD player, laptop, etc.

Her mother, with tongue firmly in cheek, said quietly: "I had to stop her there in case people thought she was showing off."

But, of course, my little six-year-old friend was merely an observant member of the .com generation raised among gadgets and appliances that allow us to skirt as much actual physical exertion as possible.

Once upon a time I used to think Dick Smiths was the sole domain of boffins and coneheads buying light bulbs and diodes. But now it has become a valid shop to browse in. It is gadget heaven with all sorts of unnecessary items we probably don't need but would be great to have.

It was only 10 years ago that the first cellphone users were lugging around small suitcases harbouring the devices.

At the time we all thought, "Well these won't catch on," but we didn't have the foresight to imagine our future dependency.

I remember a girls' lunch in 1991 when a friend brought along the new fangled invention and plonked it on the table hoping it would ring. It did, and we felt mortified as the whole restaurant observed her showy behaviour.

Cut to AD2000, and the same group at lunch are either shamelessly talking on their phones, frantically emptying out the full contents of their handbags to find the little bugger before it clicks over to the cellular secretary, or picking up their handbags and listening to them en masse to decipher whose phone is ringing.

Gadgetmania is certainly not just about toys for boys.

My annoyingly practical accountant continually points out that while our mortgage shows no sign of disappearing, there seems to be no shortage of money pouring into gadgets.

I confess to having my fair share of gizmos despite being technologically illiterate.

I have a great cellphone that is able to be used overseas (not that I am there all that often), a Palm Pilot electronic diary (justification: Filofax too big for handbag) and now a new laptop (because I don't want to be deskbound).

It's a strange fact that New Zealanders are abnormally fond of new gadgets.

We have reportedly the highest rate of cellphone usage in the world, a statistic noticed by a visitor from New York recently who thought it ironic that he, as a successful sole trader, could work in the Big Apple without one.

"I guess I just use any phone that's handy," he remarked dryly. Well, we could all do that, but who wants to spend the time looking for one?

After a meeting recently, a group decided on a particular restaurant for dinner. To make the reservation did we let our fingers (let alone our legs) do the walking? Hell, no. Someone grabbed their mobile to ring directory.

Furthermore once the number was given, by pushing "1" he was instantly connected to the restaurant thus avoiding the hassle of finding pen and paper.

Who said the 80s were dead?

With Father's Day coming up, I've been receiving unsubtle hints of the "gadgets-rather-than-clothes-thanks" variety.

He has his eye on something the size of a stick of gum that allows one to download 120 minutes of music from the internet.

But, I ask, as this will take about a day to download, why not just spend $20 on a CD of choice?

That's not the point, apparently. It's the concept of technology he likes, its usefulness being a secondary matter.

These modern-day gadgets are so techno-capable that their potential far outstrips their usefulness. Sadly, all my gadgets are used to minimum capability as that's all I really need and know how to do. Besides, the Conehead-friendly instructions are usually indecipherable to one as simple as me.

My Palm Pilot enables me to "beam" my business card details to other Palm Pilot owners - which I have done, twice, to friends whose details I knew off by heart anyway.

I am sure it could also throw a meal together and teach me to speak Mandarin.

In fact, it could probably also "beam me up, Scotty," which would be handy since, thanks to all these time-saving gadgets, life has just got all the more complicated.