It's hard to be a techie anymore

I've always been a techie. That's techie, not Trekkie, although it used to be difficult to tell one apart from the other.

At least I've always thought of myself as a techie.

Lately, I've decided I've probably never been a techie. I'm somewhere out there in the tertiary expanse of techi-ness -- someone who marveled at new toys, but waited until a hint of mainstream to adopt. I have a friend who bought a TV phone in 1998 and is still waiting to meet someone else who has one so he can place a face-to-face phone call.

My brother and my wife are techies. They just adapt immediately the latest things, and they have the text messaged arthritic thumbs to prove it.

I discovered my failing techie qualifications recently when my wife decided talking was a waste of breath. She could just message me on our phones, which have unlimited text messaging accounts. I hate it. It's like learning typing all over again, only there is no Mavis Beacon for Kyocera to date.

I remember gasping when my father told me learning how to type was the surest way to doom a career to a secretarial job. Now he's paying the price at 60, paying through the nose for us computer geeks to teach him every simple thing on the computer.

I never thought I would follow in my father's shoes, but I find myself becoming more and more distant from the techie fringe. I've listened to MP3s for years, but I've never owned a portable MP3 player. I've learn to hate the ring on my cell phone and text messaging is the bain of my existence. I don't even drink Mountain Dew and I've never been to a rave.

Am I going to get left behind when the next great technology push advances?