Monday, November 7, 2011
Out of the Past ...
I have many happy memories of being young and foolish. I don't have any idea if I was actually happy back in the days of my youth: but looking back--from the perspective of a wiser person who has lived the joys and sorrows of the life that intervened--looking back has often brought a smile.
At least it did until the Internet came along, and Facebook, and LinkedIn, and Myspace and findanyone.com and now I can actually see the people that brought these smiles to my face, not through the gauze of my imperfect memory, but it the harsh glare of an overhead fluorescent light as if on a Skype call from the past.
I want my old misty, gauzy memories back please.
I want to be unavailable to all these people again, and available to them only in their memories. I don't want to be totally and completely and utterly linked-in with them and their friends and their friends-of-friends and everybody else on the planet.
I don't want to know how they turned out. That's what I like to dream about.
I want this hackneyed uber real realty show out of the foggy, gas-lit recesses of my brain. I want their old faces young again, the way they are in my heart.
Do they have a program for that? The UnLinkedIn, UnBookedFace, the NoSpace but My Memory Space?
You know what I hate most about all this? I'm beginning to sound just like my mother.
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