12 Things Texans Miss About a World Before Smartphones

Remember when phones had cords and nobody texted “on my way” because you just showed up?

Life before smartphones was inconvenient and yet somehow better, if you ask us.

We got lost, showed up late, and waited for photos like they were rare artifacts. But we also talked more, worried less, and didn’t accidentally spend four hours scrolling through TikTok.

Here’s what so many non-Gen Z Texans and Americans across the country miss about a world before smartphones.

Having a Real Memory, Not a Photo Album of Screenshots

Before cameras lived in pockets, people relied on actual memory. Birthdays, concerts, vacations: you didn’t record them, you experienced them.

Photos were precious because film wasn’t free.

You didn’t take 200 selfies to find the one. You handed your roll of Kodak film to the Walgreens clerk and hoped for the best. If someone blinked, that was just part of the story.

Now, entire events happen through phone screens. We photograph moments we barely look at. It’s ironic, really, that we remember less now that we record more.

There was something magical about memories that lived in your head instead of the cloud.

Being Bored

There used to be entire afternoons with nothing to do except stare at the ceiling or doodle in the margins of a notebook.

Boredom felt endless, but it sparked creativity.

Kids built forts out of couch cushions, made mixtapes, and called radio stations to request songs. Adults picked up hobbies or just sat quietly without a podcast filling the silence.

Now, boredom lasts roughly eight seconds before someone reaches for their phone. Waiting in line means scrolling, not daydreaming.

Being bored used to be annoying. Turns out, it was also productive.

Getting Lost and Finding Something Better

Before GPS, getting lost was a normal part of life.

You unfolded maps that never refolded correctly or stopped at gas stations for directions from someone named Earl who may or may not have known the area.

And somehow, you discovered hidden gems like diners with hand-painted signs or roads lined with produce stands selling peaches and boiled peanuts.

You couldn’t Google those. You just found them.

Now, we have apps that make sure we never take a wrong turn, but they also make sure we never take a spontaneous one either.

Sometimes, the best stories started with “I think we missed the exit.”

The Thrill of Hearing “You’ve Got Mail”

Once upon a time, email was new, exciting, and even kind of romantic.

Logging into AOL felt like opening a door to the future. That cheerful voice greeting you was enough to make a long day feel worth it.

Back then, you didn’t have hundreds of unread messages. You had one or two, and they probably came from someone you actually knew.

Now, our inboxes are filled with discount codes, newsletters we forgot to unsubscribe from, and reminders that adulthood means “responding later.”

We didn’t realize how special it was to feel happy about checking mail, digital or not.

Waiting for Film to Be Developed

There was a special kind of excitement in dropping off a roll of film and waiting a week to see how it turned out.

You didn’t edit, filter, or crop. You just hoped your thumb wasn’t covering the lens.

The delayed gratification made every photo feel like a surprise. People laughed over the bad ones, framed the good ones, and didn’t worry about how many likes they’d get.

Now we take pictures and delete them before the moment’s even over. The mystery is gone.

There was beauty in the not knowing, even when someone’s eyes were closed in half the shots.

Talking to People Without Checking the Time

When you met a friend for lunch, you were there. No phones on the table, no buzzing alerts, no quick peeks to see who texted. Just conversation and maybe fries you didn’t plan to share.

People told full stories without interruption. They weren’t half-listening while typing “haha” in another chat.

It wasn’t about being unreachable. It was about being fully present.

Now, we call it mindfulness. Back then, it was just good manners.

Listening to Music as a Whole Experience

Before streaming, people listened to albums straight through. You studied liner notes, memorized lyrics, and flipped the cassette to Side B.

Music was something you sat with, not something you skipped through.

Waiting for your favorite song on the radio was an art. If you caught it from the beginning, it felt like winning a small lottery.

There were no algorithms, just mixtapes carefully curated with a Sharpie label and a lot of teenage emotion.

Listening to music used to feel like an event, not background noise.

Calling Instead of Texting

Once upon a time, you had to actually talk to people. You picked up the phone, listened to it ring, and hoped their little sibling didn’t answer first.

Conversations had tone, pauses, and laughter that couldn’t be captured in emojis.

Hanging up sometimes meant closure, not three days of confusing text exchanges.

Phones tethered to walls meant no multitasking. You sat down and paid attention.

It was messy, awkward, and deeply human.

The Joy of Paper Maps and Road Atlases

Road trips used to start with maps that could double as tablecloths. Someone always argued about which exit to take, and folding it back correctly became a group project.

The navigator’s job was an honor, even if it meant holding the map upside down for half the trip. There was pride in finding your own way.

Now, we let a voice named Siri correct us before we’ve even realized we’re lost. It’s convenient, sure, but also a little sterile.

Maps made travel feel like discovery instead of logistics.

Waiting for the Phone to Ring

Before smartphones, hearing the phone ring was thrilling. It meant someone was thinking about you, not a spam call about your car’s warranty.

People had to plan conversations, not text “u up?” at midnight.

And when you missed a call, you just missed it. No guilt, no follow-up, no blue bubble anxiety.

That landline ring could make hearts race, especially if you were waiting for your crush to call.

Now, silence is the default, and ringing feels almost intrusive.

Actually Finishing a Meal Without Taking a Photo

Dinner wasn’t content. You sat down, ate, and talked.

The only time anyone photographed food was during holidays, usually while someone yelled, “Hold on, let me get one for Grandma.”

Now, entire meals get cold while people adjust lighting or say things like “Wait, one more for Stories.”

Nobody cared about aesthetics back then. We cared about seconds.

Meals were about connection, not captions.

Using Your Brain for Directions

Before GPS, you had to remember how to get places.

People gave directions like “Turn left at the red barn” or “If you pass Dairy Queen, you went too far.”

We used landmarks, instincts, and occasionally handwritten notes on napkins. Somehow, everyone managed to get where they needed to go.

Now, we panic if the signal drops. Ask someone to navigate without Google Maps and watch confusion unfold.

Our internal compass might be rusty, but it once worked beautifully.

Writing Things Down by Hand

Journals, planners, and grocery lists all lived on paper.

People wrote things down instead of tapping them into an app. There was something satisfying about crossing off a task with an actual pen.

Handwriting carried personality: loops, scribbles, and hearts over i’s. Even notes passed in class had flair.