Of 23 students seated in a college classroom, guess how many were wearing wrist watches.

You are wrong.

The answer is only one.

As a person who takes some pride in keeping up with the ways of the younger generations, I had thought myself well informed about their latest mores, fashions and fads.

Yet this fact about the new status of watches caught me by surprise. It was shared with me by a friend who teaches at Emmanuel College. When he asked his students how they told time, he could hardly believe there was only one who used a watch.

Of course, they have to keep up with time, and do. Otherwise, they might not have been in the classroom at all.

But the instrument they use to track the minutes and hours is their cell phone. It never occurred to me that you could use this device to discover the time. If my cell phone can do it, I do not even know how to work that function.

I, for one, am not prepared to pronounce watches kaput. I still value the cheapo Swiss swatch that adorns my left wrist.

Even more do I love the one given me by my father in celebration of my graduation from high school in 1947. Unfortunately, this handsome Bulova no longer runs and remains immune to repair. Besides, I suspect my warranty has expired.

So I keep it in a bureau drawer where it awaits the Last Day. But if the status of watches among young people takes absolute hold, my ancient one may someday deserve exhibition in a museum.

In addition to their cell phones, many members of the younger generations use their BlackBerrys and iPods for telling time. Having lately received an iPod as a birthday present, I may soon draft it into service. That is if I can ever figure out how to use it.

But I do know how to use a gizmo that informs me how much longer George W. Bush can remain in the White House. As of this writing, it reads 123 days, 13 hours, 59 minutes, 33 seconds.

For my professor friend, the watchless undergraduates signal just one of many societal changes that provoke reflection. What does it mean when devices that you still consider normal ─and even essential ─ are no longer used by generations after your own?

In this instance, you have to get used to unaccustomed reflexes. When asked the time, young people will not automatically look at their wrists. Instead, they will take their cell out of their pocket or bag.

This particular change seems trivial, unless you are a manufacturer of wrist watches. In the five-year period 2002 to 2007, the sale of watches in America declined a whopping 17 percent. The only people buying more of them than they had in 2001 were those over 50 years old.

The companies that still advertise in glossy magazines by displaying watches that cost thousands of dollars must not have received the message. Those fabulous-looking timepieces look as if they can also perform marvelous tricks, such as giving you the time zones of the whole world.

But will anyone be buying much longer?

In general, I welcome the changes that new technology brings. With all their challenges and their satisfactions, they tend to introduce variety into life. Whenever I manage to manipulate successfully a new gadget, my success causes a kind of glow in my heart.

The use of such stuff also draws me closer to young people. It provides a bond between them and me, a reality that enhances the experience of growing old.

Of course, innovation also can bring grief. Not only do new gadgets often prove maddeningly difficult to use but they can also turn out to be nuisances when used by other people.

Few people will be bothered if you use a cell phone to tell time, but to carry on a cell phone conversation during a movie ─ that is truly irritating.

Situations like that may stir some of us to take action against the gadgets of technology. That’s what I did successfully against a cell phone abuser recently.

In the men’s locker room after my daily swim, I was annoyed by a fellow who was conducting a long, loud conversation on his cell phone. Despite disapproving looks from me, he continued to bellow with megaphone-like volume.

My patience exhausted, I finally hit on a way of shutting him up, without saying a single word to him. Instead, I began a face-to-face conversation with a friend in the same locker room, speaking in extremely loud tones.

It did not take the cell phoner long to get the message. He promptly left the room but not, perhaps, without some chagrin.

Sometimes you can strike back against the abusers of new technology and get away with it.

Richard Griffin