I’m trying something new: photos.
Yes, I’m aware: Photos are not, in fact, new. Neither is the idea that they should be included in blogs, social media and all things interweb to ensure maximum eyeballs/clicks/follows. I’m old, but I’m not sarsaparilla-sipping, shop-at-the-general-store, gonna-die-of-the-whooping-cough old. Everyone who’s anyone knows that sharing images remains an activity that is, in the words of one of our great bards, “hot” and “now.”
So I’ve added a wrinkle to my Uber chronicling, asking certain riders if they’d mind my snapping a quick photo of them. As it turns out—and I know this is wild—members of a certain generation really dig their pics. Particularly those photos in which they appear.
Other generations, I’ve found, don’t like this idea as much. When I ask if it’s OK if I get a quick shot, most believe me to be a creeper. Or maybe they’re just goddamn cranks.
They don’t understand “The Twitter.” Or “FacesBooks.” And, Jesus Christ, to folks of a certain age Instagram might as well be Tinder. For their delicate analog constitutions, Snapchat induces instant seizures.
Look, I get it: Young people can be insufferable. I’ve had a few Millennial riders I would’ve gladly tied to the Sonata’s bumper, “Vacation”-style, to learn just how long they could keep up. But most are charming, humorous, all-in-good-fun types. They aren’t any more vain than you, me or your Uncle Loin. Growing up in the age of mind-blowing technology just gives them access to a creative outlet we weren’t able to indulge. Grandma Ethel would’ve totally squeezed into a string bikini and Snapped a selfie to her FWB if, back in her day, the old bat had gotten the chance.
So why not have fun with it? Let the kids be kids, I say. No harm, no foul. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.
And, y’know, if I maybe get a few more clicks out of it …