A LOVERS’ SPAT, OR WHY I DISSED MY LAPTOP

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I’ll just cut to the chase (must learn where that saying originated; hope it’s not butcher-related)–I grew disenchanted with my MacPro. Not the laptop itself but the world of social media and endless “information,” but mostly crap (FB and fellow bloggers’ posts exempted) hurled at me the moment my crappy internet provider’s wifi gave the “all clear.”

I’m mature enough to know I’m at fault here. To paraphrase an excellent observation made by a time management pro in a highly recommended book I’m reading at present, we are smarter than our smart phones. Give or take a few, of course, but otherwise true as blue. In other words, it’s within our power to control the role technology plays in our lives. We can give in to the dazzlingly addictive temptations splayed on our various screens (I own a dinosaur phone and a laptop–no TV–and I’ve fallen victim to the insidious…insidiousness that whispers in my ear from pretty pictures and less than stellar writing or news across the board), or train the techno junkie that festers within all but the most successful (and not just materially so) humans. Speaking of which, great quote coming:

“The difference between successful people and very successful people is that very successful people say ‘no’ to almost everything.” — Warren Buffett

And he would know.

My reasons for dissing the Internet: recently reaching 1,000 blog posts with no idea what to do next, if anything; joining Twitter based on a friend’s publishing expertise and tiring of the constant barrage of mostly banal tweets within a week; back to the 1,000 blog posts–was I rehashing, regressing, regurgitating, ’cause though I’d grown as a writer had I grown up, matured, progressed as a human being, helped someone (and did anybody care either way?); my health and pain worsened making it impossible most days to care about any of it.

Lastly, I’ve witnessed the masses in my new town so mesmerized by their magical screens that they’d almost walk into me or in front of a moving car (their faces disturbingly lacking any trace of surprise, apology or “Holy Shit!”) for over five months. Their disdain for or inability to look or smile back at me started to piss me off. No, I don’t harbor this need for everyone to like me (for the most part). Their behavior’s just plain rude. Sophisticated city, my ass. Shows you what a wall plastered with degrees and a “robust” (ugh, that word) stock portfolio can’t buy you. And with that, I’ll leave off with an equally great quote:

“I would always rather be happy than dignified.” –Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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