‘Generation gap’ or ‘logic skewed?’

I admit to entering the World of the Web later than many. I first got on the Internet in 1992, after accepting a job that requiring not only knowing what it was but how to maneuver in it.

As a research tool, there’s nothing better and the old investigative reporter / editor urges are best satisfied by a good, heapin’ helpin’ of googling.

I volunteered – or better said, my company volunteered me – to be a test dummy for a new way of receiving information while on the go: Internet via cell phone modem. That was in 1998.

I signed up for Facebook in ’06 and now admit to being a faddist. I don’t know why I signed up, and cheerfully acknowledge I have “friends” I don’t even know. But I am a horrible member of Facebook Nation.

I very seldom check my page, and, as my oldest daughter tells me, I relish in being a Phantom Facebooker. “You can not stay silent for months at a time,” she chided me one time on my page, “gallop in and make some snide comments and then disappear.”

Of course I can. It is what I do. It is my job.

The point is I don’t see the point in people telling me what they are eating for breakfast (“Cream of Wheat with fresh peaches.”), what meeting they are going to attend (“Rotary today. Again!”) or that they are “going to beddy-bye.”

I am tempted to jot down notes about bowel movements but I don’t want to write it, much less edit the durn thing.

Somehow, within the last 18 months, I started texting. I began texting by hating texting but, like brussell sprouts, I agreed to try the new art form of communication because, well, hey, as my son said, “Everyone is doing it.”

I’m not good at texting either, because after being in the writing profession in one way or another for 45-plus years I can’t send messages that are not grammatically correct.

Well, yes I can, and do frequently. My iPhone knows when someone is finger-challenged and has a program that “corrects” mis-strikes of the keyboard. That’s how a message I sent about a friend’s kidney “stone” came out “kindly store.”

A good friend sent a message that she wanted to meet me at the “intercourse.” I figured out it was “intersection” but regretted the fact I had to think about the “true” meaning rather than just accept the message as a divine gift.

Texting is becoming a real problem. Just ask the administrators in schools across the country.

It’s not only a time-consumer, it’s dumbing down our society.

According to a new survey out of Texas, more than 42 percent of teenagers say they text during class. Eighty percent of those kids say they have never gotten in trouble.

Two things wrong here: Cell phones allowed in classrooms and teachers who overlook the obvious.

And then there’s “text lingo.” Lol. u. b4. 2.

stpd. ignrnt. grmaticly ncorek.

What’s to do? Get the parents involved, naturally.

Wait, that might not work. The same survey revealed that almost 70 percent of students admitted to receiving text messages from parents while in class.

gsh. wat 2 do.