By the good ol' days, of course, I am referring to last year. Back in the days when technology, while omnipresent, at least left us some remnants of independence and self-control. Back when these new-fangled devices and applications were not squeezing their way into every last nook and cranny of our lives. You remember what I'm talking about?
Two recent technological "advancements" in particular make me nostalgic for the days of yore, when things were so much simpler. If you're a senior, you're either one of those types with "hopes" and "aspirations" who happens to be applying to graduate school or you were sharing a collective heart attack with your classmates Sunday when, a day before the deadline, the new online recruiting system decided to take a nap.
Now, I don't know about you, but last year's system of -- gasp -- having to print out a resume and cover letter and make the grueling hike up to the third floor of Collis to drop it off didn't seem like one in total need of a makeover. It was easy, it was foolproof, and it worked. Now, to make things "easier," we have a new application that takes an already stressful ordeal in corporate recruiting and makes it well-nigh impossible. The futures of almost half the senior class hang in the balance, but, thanks to eRecruiting, procrastination is no longer a choice. But at least if you're applying for jobs with a deadline two weeks away, you now know to get into the system now, before it gets sleepy again!
Maybe an example relevant to the entire student body would help me get my point across. Ordering food to one's room is a common enough practice. Heck, you can be passed-out drunk, stumble over to a phone and dial that number etched into our brains to place an order for 20 anchovy-and-pineapple pizzas from EBA's. Magically, the food will arrive at your door (remember, this is last year, so the food would actually arrive at your door), even if you don't remember ordering it by the time it gets there.
But what if you're a picky or indecisive individual and you'd like to look at an online menu before you order? Well, we used to have Hanover Delivers; you could look at the whole menu at once, decide what you wanted and either place an order online or make the aforementioned phone call. But now Satan has cursed us with the DartMoose system.
After 20 minutes and about 6,000 mouse clicks on this system, I finally had an order ready to be placed, only to try to place it and face about three screens requesting information as irrelevant as my major. Maybe English majors are more the portabella mushroom sandwich kind and earth sciences majors are the ones ordering the meat pizzas and burgers, I don't know. But I do know that, after entering all my information and proceeding with the order, I was asked for about eight different passwords. These people are serious about my security when it comes to my small pizza and salad! I finally wised up and gave up, throwing my computer on the floor and picking up the phone, like I should have done from the beginning. If you've ever successfully negotiated that ordering process, well, you're a better man than I. But you're also a sucker for not picking up the phone in the first place.
My frustration propelled me to an uncharacteristic decision: I went to the comments page to complain. Wisely, I left my e-mail address blank so they couldn't track me down and send me a virus. After completing one of the finest pieces of prose ever written, (one, I dare say, that topped even this column) I clicked "send," when I received an error message requesting that I enter my e-mail address. Overcoming my paranoia, I clicked the "back" button to do just that, when, lo-and-behold, my entire complaint had vanished. Fitting, I thought, as I removed DartMoose from my favorites.
Surprisingly, I have a point in all this, South-Park-esque as it may be. Technology makes our lives easier, true, but occasionally we have to take a stand and say "No more!" when it gets out of control. Some things, things that can be handled with a simple phone call or a piece of paper, are easy enough on their own and don't need to be improved upon. I think we can find better use for our resources than the constant innovation where none is warranted. But at least this way we're kept mentally agile as we face a new program to learn at every corner -- maybe that's what this top-notch Ivy League education is really all about.
