They sit on my bookshelf, alone, neglected, and looking lonely. Once they were highly valued, a world of information at my fingertips. They are my beautiful set of World Book Encyclopedias, as out-dated as the dinosaurs.
The culprit is the internet. Why go to the trouble of opening a book, shuffling through alphabetically, and coming upon the information needed which is probably too old to be of any use any more, when I can go to the computer, type anything I want to know on the search bar, and, presto! There it is in a few seconds.
I worked hard to get this set of World Book, Childcraft, the Cyclo-Teacher, Dictionaries, and atlas. But, now, I never use them. Technology has crowded them out.
Two sets of Childcraft gather dust on my shelves and my favorite is the older set. It has wonderful old poems and nursery rhymes, the fables and children’s stories that have been around for centuries. Sometimes I open one of those old Childcraft books and re-read, just to feel the pages, read the words, and see the pictures that so many people held dear for years and years. They are comforting.
Many other things have gone the way of the dinosaurs, things I used to take for granted, things that gradually slipped out of use, so slowly that I don’t realize they’re gone until one day, I think, why doesn’t anyone use cursive writing any more? Or, why isn’t shorthand being taught in schools?
The reason, of course, is that they are no longer needed. I have a sneaking fear, a creeping realization that, perhaps, some day, cozy mystery writers will be obsolete. A little machine somewhere will whisk out plot and characters and everyone will love them. The lovely books will fly off the shelves and make millionaires of those mechanized writers. I feel a deep sympathy for the dinosaurs.
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