Is technology really the best way?

Is technology really the best way?

JAKARTA (JP): It seems that I created an uproar the last time I was in the U.S. You see, I had heard that I could get the old fashioned kind of gramophone needles in the antique shops there.

But whenever I asked for them, people would laugh at me and often add: "You still use the old fashioned gramophone? The ones that you have to wind up and change needles after each song?"

I would answer shyly: "Yes, the ones with the big horn and a dog listening to His Master's voice. I love to hear the old songs I sang as a little girl: On the Good Ship Lollipop by Shirley Temple, or the French chansons by Josephine Baker."

They would just shake their heads unbelievingly, amazed that with the new equipment that is so convenient, people would still want to use those obsolete gadgets, especially when spare parts are so difficult to find.

I still remember the first change in sound equipment: a small record with a big hole in the middle, no messy changing of needles. But if you ever lost the small attachment that fitted in the big hole, your ability to enjoy those records would be lost forever. Then there was the tape recorder, a huge instrument with tapes like a film reel, that could play many songs after another.

But greatest of all was that the reel to reel contraption could record your own voice. Then the tape recorder became the cassette recorder, with meters and meters of tape, all in a plastic see-through box. All you have to do is to put it in the recorder, push a few buttons and you can have hours of music enjoyment. Great!

But the inventors did not sit still. They tried even harder to make people happy and to help them relax both during and after their working hours.

They invented television, but knowing that people are inclined toward do-it-yourself amusement they developed this further into video recorders. For those who don't like to do it themselves, there are video cassettes. But very soon people with video players found their equipment obsolete again, because a new invention invaded the market aggressively, the laser disc.

I must admit that I have owned most of this modern equipment at one time or another. I wanted to keep up with the Jones' and did my best to do so. I ended up with a storeroom full of old videos, cassette recorders and what not.

But electronics also included the invasion of computers.

Well, of course I joined the race there too.

First I needed a computer, then I needed a better computer and then the need was for a faster computer. At last the computer was not needed for itself, but for the CD-ROM, for the fax-modem and finally for the e-mail. But after having been harassed on the information highway, I decided to stop buying new things.

I keep telling myself, that I don't need a hand-phone and certainly not a karaoke machine. I dare not even sing in the bathroom, let alone in the living room. And although my friend tells me that she even sings in the karaoke bar, because something in the microphone makes you sing better, I chickened out when I was asked to sing on the ferry to Sumatra. I wouldn't even do that for the first class seat that came as a bonus for taking part in the singing.

Computers are OK, because after all I need them for my work. I have become a computer wizard, because I always go shopping for the latest in games and programs. I learned how to convert one program to another, making young people gasp with admiration that an old grandmother like me could do so easily what they have so much difficulty learning.

I seldom travel, but I do own a lap-top computer, which I use to work on the porch.

I once interviewed the late Kho Ping Hoo, a famous writer of buku silat or cloak and dagger stories. He was quite a phenomenon, because he wrote about 200 titles in his lifetime.

"I never use a computer," he told me. "I have an old medium- sized typewriter, which I take with me when I go to my retreat in the mountain area of Tawangmangu. I have created most of my stories on this typewriter. I like the rhythm of the clicking keys, it gives me inspiration, that's why I can write fast. I feel lonesome in front of a computer and my mind goes blank."

His words make me feel ashamed. Here I am, in front of my computer and turning out one single article makes me feel so proud! I should be working on a clicking typewriter, maybe I could help to improve the reading habits of the Indonesians. However, the late Mr. Kho is not alone in his preference for typewriters.

Traveling once with my friend Nora, I noticed that her hand luggage was extremely heavy. She lugged it along bravely, although she was always happy when we could find a cart. On arrival, she unpacked a portable typewriter that she brought along to finish a paper for the conference we were going to attend.

Noticing my surprise she said sheepishly: "I once used a computer and after having typed for hours the electricity went off and all my work was wiped out just like that. So now, I would rather work on my typewriter. It gives me security and that's what I need."

I was flabbergasted and started re-evaluating my jet-setting friend, who has a career that would make many people jealous and likes to stay in five-star hotels because of the room service. But then I thought about my own obsession with "His master's voice" and thought: "Oh, well..."

-- Myra Sidharta