The unexamined life is not worth living.....
Socrates
As I turn a clear eye towards myself I can see that I have become a guy who spends , more time than I ever imagined I would , on the computer. In the morning , I'll check my e mail , all three accounts, then scoot over to twitter to see if Roger Ebert has gotten any sleep in the last 24 hours. (obviously not- the man tweets constantly, god bless him). Then some news, NYT, Huffingtonpost, Dailybeast, Dlisted (okay gossip, but the guy who writes it is wonderfully snarky) and whatever links they lead me to.
What used to be 15 minutes is now an hour (and getting longer) I try not to go on during the day without a reason, but reason and the interweb seem to dwell in different worlds.
oh! I forgot all about the narcotic that is Facebook. When I joined that soul sucker 2 years ago (thanks to my "friend" Bradlee) I had no idea what the hell it's for. Two years later, I still don't know what it's for, but I check it 10 times a day. That's not good.
It is a labyrinth, You start and then you follow crumbs and you end up in "Where the Hell am I?" To quote my second favorite philosopher, "I don't know where I'm going, but I'm on my way" Stymie.
Case in point- I read a story about a heavily bosomed young lady who was driving and texting (c'mon now!) and totaled her car. So now she doesn't have a car , can't get to work, and she is facing Jail time if she doesn't pay a fine and do community service.
Well the community service is no problem, but how to pay the fine? Where can she raise the money? Good questions. Hmmmmm, Oh, did I mention that she was heavily bosomed with cleavage not unlike that fabled Canyon out west?
This leads me to her face book page, which now leads to a web site , where, (i am not making this up) Young ladies will offer chats and photos and videos for a price. A price that is decided between those who are members of the site and the young ladies. So there she is asking for donations to pay her fine so that she won't, "get raped in jail"
Other young ladies are very direct as they ask for money to pay bills or for cosmetic surgery or just for "retail therapy" . Incredible
Yeah, I am spending waaaaay too much time on the computer. In my defense I will say that my computer is in a room that is filled from floor to ceiling with books. All four walls are covered, the floor has stacks of books all over, I need to climb over a stack of books to get to the computer. I take some solace in that- often a web search will lead me to my books. I feel much better surrounded by open books than by a screen filled with open tabs. Love books, ever since i was a wee little kid. Loved the text, the content, but just as much I love the object.
There is an article in New York Magazine this week about a girl who works in the library of the Museum Of Modern Art. They have 300,000 books in their collection- about six months ago during her lunch hour she started a project, she would open a book and smell it and then keep a journal about her impressions of each book. She's done about 150 so far. Each book has a unique aroma, not all pleasant- one of the books got this assessment, "armpit".
Like most book devotees ( I was going to say, bookies, but that didn't seem right) I have spent time taking a good inhale of a favorite book. That sense of smell is very transportive, a good whiff of a book, an inexpensive paperback in particular, will take me right back to my misspent youth , when I would spend hours in a little book store in Sayville, just looking at book after book. (Diana, help me out, what was the name of that store on south main st.?)
Now you're going to think I'm making this up, but I was in Borders once and two young ladies were walking by and one turns to the other and says "I hate the smell of books."
I will not be having lunch with those girls- if you need me I'll be having a peanut butter and jelly on rye at MOMA, I'll be with the young lady in the corner enjoying lunch and a good book
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