Friday, March 12, 2010

I'D BE BEREFT WITHOUT HIM


It was slow and insidious, the way he crept into my life, nosing his way into unexpected corners and digging himself in, like a tenacious weed. I fought hard, doing my best to resist his pull, but eventually his tendrils were wrapped around my heart. Now there's no point in denying it. I'm hopelessly in love...with Internet (though I still kinda hate his ever-fickle companion, Computer).

Computer didn't tempt me in the least, when John first brought him home to meet me, and I was somewhat aghast at how easily he won our two-year-old daughter over, with all of his flashy "educational" games. I saw no point in allowing him to become caretaker of my precious recipes (what if he lost them!), or in any of his other "miraculous time-savers" that John was so enamored with.

But then, he hooked up with Internet. Even so, it wasn't until the kids and I had to move back from Indonesia several months ahead of John, in time for the start of the school year, that I discovered the allure of his email feature... how it could transform two people, who can barely find anything at all to say on the telephone, into the most loquacious of communicators. Next I was forced to concede that he sure came in handy when the kids needed to do research for school - no need for shelf-hogging encyclopedias at home, and not near as many last minute trips to the library. Still, for the next ten or fifteen years, that was pretty much all I allowed him to do for me.

Lately though, I'm not quite sure what has happened. His attractions grew like a snowball rushing down hill, until eventually they simply bowled me over! I'm at the point now that, when his provider called last night to say he'd be keeping us apart for a few hours today, a black cloud of funk enveloped me. I had to wonder, how did I let it get this far?

I think it started with Library. When we moved to Katy, a humongous suburb west of Houston with five or six high schools, I was astounded to discover its only bookstore was a small paperback exchange, and Library was no larger than a bookmobile! How could this be? Well, Library was small, but he was mighty, thanks to his friendship with Internet. I could go on-line at home, reserve any books I wanted, they would gather them from all over Houston and, in no time at all, send me a message saying "Come and get it!" Once Internet had won my favor with that, he started offering me things like on-line banking and Netflix. Then I found myself submitting articles and taking classes through him, searching for recipes, music, and how-to-knit videos. His coup de grace was the offer of blogs and facebook, and now I'm hopelessly lost. He's a part of everything I do!

Here's an example: I was staring at a hunk of leftover ham recently, wondering how to use it. What did I do? I walked over to Computer and typed in "leftover ham." Within seconds he and Internet had handed me pages full of ideas and recipes - which is how we ended up eating some lovely twice-baked potatoes one night, and that fabulous quiche pictured above, another. You can understand, can't you, how I've become so dependent on him?

Know what's really sad? I actually found myself thinking, not long ago, that if the economy totally cratered, or some natural disaster occurred, and I had to get really serious about becoming more self-sufficient, I'd be OK. With Internet's help, I could learn to do anything - from milking a cow and making cheese, to growing and grinding wheat! I'm embarrassed to admit that it actually took a moment for the realization to sink in, that if the world has been reduced to a state such as that, he will be gone. Kaput. His plug will have been pulled. How can I survive, without him?

2 comments:

musingegret said...

Did you ever see the South Park ep where the Internet disappears/goes down/no one can connect? Everyone winds up in San Francisco in gigantic campgrounds vying for a 1 minute slice of connect time! Humans of all ages experiencing existential angst: teeners can't IM/chat; dads can't get their fix of porn, etc. You get the picture.

I tell ya, it'll be a dark, dark day (literally) when the power grid fails and the 'Net goes down. Talk about PTSD of national proportions!

Every so often, for mental gymnastics, I relive my childhood/young adulthood/early middle age of life with only a black-and-white TV, rotary dial phone, touch tone phone with cord, touch tone phone portable, gas or electric stove and no microwave, encyclopedias in the bookcase, writing and receiving letters through the mail, writing checks and paying bills via mail, etc, etc, etc.

Is this how folks felt about horses and buggies once the auto prevailed?

I tell ya, I could give up TV permanently but never, never the net!! LOL

Hill Country Hippie said...

Same here - in fact, I often think I'd be happier with my rotary phone and 3-station TV back. But give up the nets? Never!

Didn't see that episode of South Park, but it sounds a lot like a great movie I once saw called "A Day Without Mexicans", where everyone in California woke up one day to discover that all the Mexicans had just vanished off the face of the earth. Talk about a breakdown in infrastructure!