A daughter is visiting and wants to show her mother something. My wife’s head is in her laptop. “Just a moment, I’m writing an email,” she says.
“God, it’s like 1996 round here,” says daughter. This is an (almost) fully functioning person who nonetheless once FaceTimed me in New York to ask how far from the corner of an envelope you stick a stamp if you want to avoid seeming weird.
None of her friends even uses email, she claims. Young people (and those who like to appear young) message only on social media.
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