There was a time—not even that long ago—when human beings used their words. When “talking” meant, you know, talking. Conversations. Ideas. Long-winded rants over dinner tables. Philosophical debates over coffee. Or, if you grew up in West Texas like me, friendly front porch chats that started with “How’s your mama?” and somehow ended in barbecue recipes and oil rig gossip.
And now? We have Snapchat. Where apparently, the dominant form of communication is a blurry picture of someone’s forehead or a duck-lipped selfie accompanied by the letter “S.”
Snapchat: The App I Open, Then Immediately Close
I’m going to be real with you. I don’t understand Snapchat. I use it exclusively as a camera app. That’s it. I take a picture. I save it. I open Instagram and post it there. I’m a simple man with simple needs. This whole “snap me back” culture? What are we snapping? Our sanity? Because mine’s hanging by a thread.
When did we stop actually saying things to each other and start relying on facial expressions, filters, and emojis to communicate the depths of our souls? I miss full sentences. Hell, I miss vowels.
A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words? Lies.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I should have written the equivalent of War and Peace just looking at your 18th selfie of the day. But what am I supposed to glean from it? Your mood? Your political beliefs? Whether you’re constipated or just squinting into the sun?
I come from the Twitter generation. From the Facebook feeds of yore. You said what you meant—even if it was a passive-aggressive “some people should really mind their business” post at 2 a.m. There was still substance. There were words. Now we’re out here speaking in cryptic Bitmojis and random bursts of “streaks.”
Is This a Cry for Help or Just a Filter?
Sometimes I look at Snapchat stories and genuinely wonder: is this a thirst trap or a hostage situation? The lighting, the angle, the dog ears. I’m not entirely sure you’re okay, but I’m too old to decode it.
Also, who decided a disappearing photo was better than a real message? If you send me something I can’t reference later, guess what? I’ve forgotten it already. I have a 40-year-old brain that’s been through trauma, chemo, and two decades of managing people who think asking for extra towels at midnight is reasonable.
From Books to Bitmojis
We used to read books, y’all. Now we send fruit emojis to convey romance. Remember plot? Character development? Now the height of narrative is a caption that says “mood” under a black-and-white Boomerang.
Somewhere along the line we decided communicating through full thoughts was too much work. We got tired. We got filters. We stopped typing and started snapping. And I, for one, am still stuck in 2009 asking myself why people are sending disappearing pictures of half their face instead of just saying, “Hey, how’s your day?”
Final Thoughts (Or Snaps, Whatever)
I don’t think I’m too old for Snapchat. I just think I’m too old to pretend that it counts as communication. I need a beginning, a middle, and an end—not a dog filter and a sideways peace sign. And until the app starts offering me that, I’ll keep using it the way God intended: as a fancy camera that lets me save photos and then ignore the rest of the nonsense.
So the next time you want to “snap” me, maybe send a message instead. I still like talking. Even if it’s just about which Mariah Carey song fits the mood today (spoiler: it’s always “Emotions”).