*Written in the wilds of Northern Virginia March 4, 2009 and slightly before texting became the premier method of communication due to the proliferation of smart phones
Sometimes as connected as one can be to others, there are times when you just miss. The world I grew up in was devoid of cell phones. It was different. You actually made plans to be available to make a call, or wait for someone to call you. In retrospect, I believe there was a delicious vulnerability in that. Today, access is too easy, and less importance is made of the romance of calling someone. As routinely made calls find way to voicemail, an no one answers directly. Screening the meaning I suppose. Oddly enough, after someone listens to the voicemail left by the caller, they in turn call back, only to routinely find their way to voicemail. This goes on ad infinitum, and nothing gets said. Well, actually, what is not said, but communicated, is that your message really determines if your original call merits a return phone call. The necessity that cell phones supposedly were created to address, has made communication an obtuse dependency, devoid of meaning. It has caused us to be necessarily available, but not accountable to almost instantaneous connection. I think something is lost, perhaps in anticipation, maybe longing, hell just the plain randomness of taking a chance in placing a call in hopes that you might catch that person before they leave their home. Well, the progress we have made has delivered us to a solitary place. A place where you can always reach anyone, at anytime, as long as they’ll have you.
We're all on a road to somewhere.
O zi minunată!
Island boy, city life.