A Time Before the Erasing of Distance

Farewell for now.

I have decided that I am going to take some time away from the internet. Those of you who know me well, or have been reading this blog for years, know that I inherently question technology. I used to think myself a Luddite, but have since concluded that to be untrue. But I am perpetually aware of how my time is spent, for better or worse. The truth is that the internet has done much good for me and the world. That is likely an understatement. An immeasurable amount. But…..I will not enumerate the many ways that I find fault with the world wide web. Suffice it to say I could carry on. I thought I would write in detail about my feelings in this regard, but I just feel rather apathetic about it at the moment. The general malaise.

More than anything I just want a break. I want to know again what it feels like NOT to check my email, and look around unnecessarily online. Why do I check my damn email so often? Why do I come in the house, and while I await my wife and the baby (coming down any minute) look at photos of Bill Frisell via google? I could of course postulate a number of theories, but I will refrain. To be truthful, I fear that I have an addiction to the internet. Moreover, I fear that much of the affluent world does. I don’t intend (at present) to foist my woes upon the you about this aspect of the matter, but it has been much on my mind.

I confess (not proudly) that there was a time in my life years past, when I spent as much time looking at porn on this damn machine as I did playing the guitar. That, my dear reader is a sad state of affairs. What power the computer has. I have become acutely aware of the fact that the internet has reshaped my thinking. Now this is fine in some way, and entirely inevitable. But I think to have what I would define as a healthy relationship with the internet, (at least for myself) I need to step back from it for a bit and evaluate.

For example: I acquired my first cell phone in the summer of 2004 just before I rode my bicycle across the country. The purpose of this was to speak with my (then girlfriend) wife while on the road. (Of course the hidden purpose of this was to give AT&T far too much of my hard earned money.) Nevertheless, I was quite grateful for the phone. I arrived in Maine, married my wife, and cancelled the account. We got another in 2006 just before driving across the country, as we would be without a home for a few months on the road. This too was a good decision. We have kept that phone and use it now and then when one of us travels, or we both travel. In that way, I find it to be a wonderful thing. But I do not carry it around with me at any other time. I know this may sound insane to many of you, and there certainly is reason to have one. I do not pass judgment here. In my case, at present, I just don’t want to use it any more than that.

So what about the internet? Well. I use it too much. Shortly after my wife and I had our son, people asked me if I could remember what it was like not to have a son. I said yes. I think I am supposed to so no, but I said yes. I still say yes. But it is becoming more and more difficult to recall that former self. The Jeff who was not a father. But if you ask me the same question about the internet, I must say no. Of course I can recall, but it is foggy and distant. So I seek perspective.

I just finished reading My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk. In it, one of the characters says that at its core, life is about mystery. I’m not sure that I agree with this entirely, but it does resonate. What happens for example, when I always eat at “the best” restaurant because google told me so? Perhaps it would be good (both physically and metaphorically) to get lost now and then. I recently re-read something written many years ago by scholar Walter Benjamin, from his book titled “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” I’ve begun to wonder if our homogenized world, our global ideals (not mine or even likely even yours) have begun to seep into my everyday usage of this machine. Have I become a mechanically reproduced human of this organizing body? Are my patterns of thought becoming shaped by the fact that the internet exists. The fact that I can?

Am I close with anyone with whom I only email? (Not really.) How much time would I spend on youtube if I had to pay for every second? How many times would I check my email, if each ‘checking’ cost a dollar?

I said I wasn’t going to carry on, so I’ll stop. I had half a mind to write some academic treatise on the matter, but... I wonder what will happen in my absence?

A few confessions though: I will continue to listen to NPR, though I will do so by streaming in iTunes. Humor me…we live in a town of 700 people, and drive 40 minutes to the grocery store once a week. I will also (of course) sign on if I need to find an optometrist or something of that nature that I am having trouble locating. Medical needs. Or financial. If for some reason I need to get to my bank or something. You know. Back to the old days.

See you in June.