Standing in front of a group of elementary school children is not usually a challenge for Jessica Loos. Unfortunately, today is not her day. As her 5-foot-6-inch frame looks over their mushroom-top heads, her eyes move anxiously toward the classroom door. In rolls her challenger: a television complete with DVD player. She rubs her hands together and wipes a thin layer of sweat from her forehead. Bending down, her reflection disappears from the big glass eye. She squints and searches for the eject button on the DVD player. After she inserts the disc, she stands for a few moments and waits for a response. Her anxiousness turns to frustration as she presses the play button harder and harder. Three minutes later, little Brian calls out, "Plug it in!"

Loos, an East Bay resident, has fallen prey to many a DVD player and refuses to use a computer. Although “technophobe” is not stamped on her forehead, she is not alone in opposing the new technology others covet. There are many who choose to be luddites of the 21st century. Luddites are those against technological programs and technological change.

When it comes to technology, people today seem to have it all at their fingertips, literally. An entire library’s worth of information can be available as close as your cell phone. The modern mindset is that without the Internet, a cell phone or television, life is unlivable. But not everyone is clamoring to get the latest gadgets. Luddites need new technology like a vegan needs a porterhouse. By boycotting the high-tech these folks give new meaning to ‘keeping it real.’

On a Tuesday evening, Loos meets her local neighbors and girlfriends at a nearby coffee house in North Beach. Other customers of the laid-back coffee spot can’t help but notice the enthusiastic chattering of four middle-aged women who sound like 15-year-olds with crushes on a boy. While some high strung coffee drinkers turn into oil-pastel portraits when they glare at their Mac minis, these ladies are visibly excited about putting together a 250-piece puzzle in the middle of the café.

“I'd rather be doing this than listening to my walkman or talking on my cell phone. This is comfort,” Loos says. She and her friends call themselves the “Neo-luddites,” but Loos has some serious opinions on technology. Unlike many in this world who feel a magnetic pull toward their computers, the last thing on Loos’ mind is checking her e-mail. She claims her lack of hand-eye coordination has made her completely tech-incompetent. She recently purchased a microwave, a piece of machinery she has not used since she was a child. As of yet, however, Loos is no closer to knowing how to turn the thing on.

Technology is becoming increasingly pervasive and hidden, and the fear of not understanding this hidden unknown is difficult to bear for many people. Since technology advances so quickly, it would be challenging for even the most accomplished technophiles to keep up with all the latest developments. "Cultures evoke counter-cultures, forces standing in opposition to the 'official' or 'ordinary' way of doing things," according to Sherri Cavan, San Francisco State University sociology professor and author of "Hippies of the Haight," among other works about culture and counter-culture. "Since the industrial revolution emerged in the late 18th century, individual philosophers and then social groups emerged in response, advocating a simpler way of life as a higher value ... Sometime in the process, they re-invented the very way of life they eschewed. So, as life becomes more technological, it is quite natural for some people to choose to reject those developments and instead live a simpler way of life."

“I am not completely anti-technology,” Loos says. “I have a cell phone, although I don’t like having one. I’d rather talk to people in person; interaction is key. Technology makes me feel distant from the physical interaction you get when you’re one-on-one.”

Loos, a full-time writer and part-time teacher, chooses to write her books by longhand instead of using a computer because, she says, she writes faster than she types. Once, in an attempt to use a typewriter about eight years ago, Loos says she was furious when, after typing two long paragraphs of an assignment, she discovered the paper did not come out of the typewriter as she typed. Her kitchen is full of appliances that don’t need a plug-in outlet. She uses such thing as her hand-can opener and hand-coffee grinder with ease.

“I feel like I have control of my life,” Loos says. “Technology complicates things. For me, there is a sense of satisfaction when things are done without relying on a computer. Yeah, it may take longer to open a can or find directions, but I feel relieved from the stresses of technology.”

Loos only uses her TV to watch movies. “Television shows are just one big commercial screaming at us to buy things. It’s useless," she says.

Loos isn’t alone in this plugged-in world. Bob Cole not only rejects the computer culture, but also believes life is more complete without technology. He is a part of the remnant society of technophobes. Cole, 55, can only be contacted by mail. No, not e-mail—the kind delivered by a guy in blue pants.

From the back roads of west Marin, population 1,246, Cole begins his day with a bike ride to his nursery at 6:30 a.m. As he looks at his 14-year-old nursery, which holds a collection of cacti from all over the world, he handles his needlepoint flowers like an arachnid lover holds a tarantula. He doesn’t have to worry about being stuck in traffic because he bikes all around town. And even after riding uphill for 20 minutes, only one drop of sweat crawls down his forehead. As he rests his five-speed against the wall of the local post office, where most of the residents check their mail, his childlike smile carries approachable warmth.

“I live in a tiny trailer that is older than I am,” Cole says. “I came from a family that had an oil business. When you’re around greedy people, you’ll never be happy. Living without technology, I find serenity without the interruptions.” A landscaper, Cole doesn’t own a phone, although he says he has no prejudices against people who do. He hates the distraction. “When you have a savoring train of thought in mind and then the phone rings, it’s just an added interruption that I don’t need,” Cole says.

In this day and age, people like Loos and Cole may seem a rare breed. But they are worth keeping in mind when you try to have a relaxing Sunday at home and the phone keeps ringing and the only thing to watch on television is paid programming. According to these modern day luddites, taking a hike into the woods for the day may just be the way out. Let’s just hope that the car doesn’t break down and the phone doesn’t lose its signal so you can get back home in time for your favorite show.