I was in a conversation the other day with one of my godchildren. You know, teenagers. They were absorbed with modern devices such as the ever popular cellular phones.
He toyed with his device like it was a simple Walkman of the 1980s. The selection of downloaded music was strange to my ears. Of course, teens listened to new artists which I never heard of.
Then, his cellphone pinged. A new message came. The message alert tone was replaced by a recording of a female voice with a robotic intonation. I was impressed.
“Ninong, do you have Bluetooth?” he inquired. (Ninong is Tagalog for godfather.)
Well, my cellphone might be a hand-me-down like my digital camera but surely it was not as ancient compared to the new gadgets around.
“Yes,” I replied, bragging a bit. “I even have music like yours do.”
“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly as if dismissing the additional information. “Your music is old.”
What? I was slapped mentally. The boy’s statement obliquely meant I was old, too.
To strike his impertinence down, I asked him, “Do you know what is Bluetooth?”
He looked at me with that facial look of ignorance.
Aha! I got you, young man. Old, huh?
I digressed for some minutes and lectured him to seek more information on the applications he was using. At least, he would grasp the meanings of the high tech jargon behind the technology.
Before we could finish our exchange, his auntie came over. She overheard the Bluetooth reference.
“I have it, too,” she divulged as a matter of fact.
My godchild and I stared at each other, surprised of her remark because she held nothing in her hands.
“May I know which gadget you own?” I queried, indulging her claim.
She looked confused at the question as if I was asking the wrong person.
For an answer, she bent down and raised the right side of the leg part of her pants. She pointed to something I recognized.
“See I have bulutut here.”
“Yes, indeed,” I quipped, seeing what should be a painful sore.
Oh my God! I thought I would scream at her for being so naive, Naturally, I asked my godchild what her auntie was really talking about.
He was already smiling from ear to ear, fully understanding the reason for the communication mix-up..
“Ninong, bulutut in their local dialect is actually a boil,” he explained to me like I was a grade school student.
I looked up to the sky, no, ceiling and prayed that the lizard would fall on my face as punishment for asking the clarification.
“Yes, indeed. She has Bluetooth,” I admitted sarcastically.