This summer I had a significant birthday. I’m middle aged. I’m no longer a product of the world in which I reside. The environment of my youth is gone, a distant age symbolised by long dead VCRs, Pac-Mans and Walkmans, smoking in pubs, rotary-dial landline telephones, typewriters, cassettes – and crowds of people socialising sans virus threats.
Me as a 17-year-old art student.
I was the first ever journalist in my home town (Waterford, Ireland) to report on a new phenomenon called the ‘Internet’ – way back in 1994. I’d even travelled to New York and interviewed people who used it regularly. All of that would be impossible now, even the travel.
Technology and younger, hipper and more energetic get it in an instant – and draw upon a slew of apps to fuel and give shape to their creations, their art. And this new world is alien to me. I’ve written a new play exploring this alienation. And, ironically, provided it with a Zoom reading.
How much the world has changed. And how much it will change in the coming years.