I certainly do not think of myself as old, and that’s because I am not. However, there is a distinct generational divide between me and the new crop of reporters who are hitting the streets these days.

OK, “reporters” is a slight exaggeration, because the NJN has only one reporter. That reporter was me until March, when I slid over to the editor’s desk. We brought in a young rookie who had a journalism degree and some freelance writing experience.

Ben is doing an excellent job in his first position as a full-time reporter. But there are a few things about him and his generation (he’s only 12 years younger than me, people!) that cause me to shake my head in amazement sometimes.

Take the phone book.

I don’t think Ben had actually ever looked inside one until he came to work at the paper.

Having grown up in the world of instant information-gathering via the Internet, it does not cross the mind of this young man to look in the paper version of the telephone book for phone numbers.

Does he find the information he needs? Absolutely. If it’s online, he finds it in mere seconds.

Then there’s the matter of the Rolodex.

The first time Ben saw the Rolodex on my desk, he scoffed. Scoffed!

“You still use those?” he asked in amazement. “It’s … paper!”

Of course I use a Rolodex, I told him. I have a ton of information to keep up with.

I asked him if he needed one for his desk. He scoffed again. He said he would use his computer to keep up with his contacts.

However, it was only a few months later when Ben suggested that a Rolodex might come in handy, after all. I think it was the mound of business cards beginning to grow on his desk.

He’s also not crazy about using the paper version of the calendar. He programs reminders in Google Calendar or on his cell phone.

The final thing that continues to surprise me about Ben, as well as our freelance writer who is still in college, is their method of finding specific locations.

Someone at the office will often be in the middle of giving one of them directions to an assignment, and they will endure it as long as possible before they finally cut us off and say, “Just give me the address. I have a GPS.”

I can’t help but wonder if my own editor felt the same way when I was a new reporter almost 14 years ago. As each generation comes along, it does certain things differently. This is a good thing, or we would all still be chiseling our alphabet onto stone tablets.