I sat perfectly still for the longest time, just staring at the computer screen completely in denial. Then I realized something really quite frightening. My mind was a total blank. I looked around inside and there wasn’t a thought to be found.
The umbilical cord to my source had been cut and I was vanishing fast. I panicked and hit every button I could find.
NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Perspiration mixed with tears ran down my face. Animal-like moans of distress began emanating from deep in my throat.
Then I heard a gentle, soothing voice, tiny and from a distance, that I recognized as my own. “You existed before the Internet, Jayne.”
Before the Internet?
What a concept.
But, of course, the voice was right. I had existed for a good many years before the Internet, although so completely had this technology taken over my life that I struggled to recall them.
Slowly, bits of memories began to float back… There had been face-to-face conversations with people where we asked each other not “How R U?”, but “How are you?” and then we listened and sometimes even hugged – actually putting our arms around each other, not just ((( ))).
I didn’t spend hours friending people electronically that I’d never meet in person. I had real-life friends. I still have real-life friends. Why don’t I make more time for them?
Tweet was a sound that a bird made. Birds… Yes, I remember now.
The phone’s ring used to cheer me. It was almost always somebody I wanted to talk to. When did I start to be annoyed at it for interrupting my busy online life?
And how many updates do I really need from CNN? Will my world come to an end if I don’t find out about the latest sex scandal, salmonella outbreak, or NBA standings before the evening news?
I recall when my credit cards weren’t maxed out because if I wanted to buy something I actually had to go to the trouble of driving to a store, finding a parking spot, and shopping for it.
In my own home I was pretty much safe from the temptations of advertisers as long as I didn’t turn on the radio or TV. Now they’re stalking me. There’s this one scary old dude who wants to sell me a mortgage and follows me everywhere. “The Loft” thinks I’m interested in their spring line, and how did Price Grabber know I needed a new camera?
Gone are the days when people only knew things about me that I wanted them to know. Now I can be Googled – and without benefit of lubrication, too.
I took a deep breath and dried my tears. It’s a beautiful day. I’ll take a walk. Maybe call a friend to meet for coffee. I’ve been meaning to wash my car. And it’s spring – time to plant the veggie garden. There’s no end to the things I can do!
Then it was back. A little screen apologizing for the disruption. My open pages restored, there they all were again – my people. Look at them. Those smiling avatars. We’ve shared so much.
“Back away from the computer, Jayne!”
Wow. What happened to your gentle, soothing voice?
“Don’t make me bitch-slap your sorry ass, girlfriend.”
I can’t just vanish on everyone. What will they think? I’m just going to say good-bye, explain my epiphany – the garden, the birds, the friends –
Oh, look. An e-mail. Sale
I’ll just peek. What could it hurt one last time? I’m out of sunscreen anyway. It’ll only take a minute.
Hey, what’s that sucking sound…?
Ever wonder where the time goes?
