It was about 1am and I was snuggled in bed with none other than my laptop (wild, I know). I was working on this site, and while waiting for some changes to load I realized how quiet it was. I could hear my neighbor snoring (part of the “charm” in older apartment buildings), and that was it. I thought back to when the internet was this new thing and made so much noise. And I missed that.
I remember logging on using slow, noisy dial-up. In bustling Appalachia, that was what we were stuck with for a very, very long time. Each time it felt like I was joining something. There was an anticipation while you listened to clicks and buzzes. It took time, it made noise, and on the other side of all of that there was something new and big – more than I could ever even process. Now, I click a button and a screen silently pops open to reveal custom web sites, that I can jump to with no wait, and that are new by the hour. Now it is cold and quiet. It’s more information, but the experience is gone.
Along the same lines, I’ve been listening to a lot of talk radio lately. I hate to be an NPR groupie, but I think it’s happening. While it’s nice to be informed, I’m not really listening because I must have the latest on Syria or the Royal Wedding. I like talk radio because it isn’t so clean. People have accents. They pause when they are thinking of an answer. They get too close to the microphone. The human element hasn’t been removed.
I feel like a lot of things in our world have gotten too clean, too quiet. Our radio and internet, our words, our designs, our feelings. When things showing the signs of age, I find it beautiful, but those the things we tear down and throw away. I guess I see it as a challenge to myself (and maybe you?) to be loud and messy sometimes. Maybe you can’t do it in your job, but you can write a handwritten letter (who wouldn’t love getting one of those!), join your kids on their craft project (glitter!), have a giant nerf gun attack, get muddy playing football (and leave the hand sanitizer in the house). Don’t use a handwritten font, use your handwriting. Turn off the internet and actually talk to someone. It’s the little things, and I, for one, am missing them.
