Digital nonchalant
The window is open slightly and letting a small amount of cold, fresh air into the room. Every night, it’s about the same. You’re hot when you go to bed. Cold in the middle of the night. And hot when you wake up. That’s the other value of a digital thermostat. Good or bad, you don’t stay the same all night.
It’s nice to have the cats, and not have the worry, but it would be quite difficult to live like this forever.
This is, by the way, is another rant about how Americans are broken. How we’ve somehow become even more disconnected from basic social ties. Family. Friendship. Whichever.
I have to explain Twitter at work almost every day. You post a short message. 140 characters or less. You friends can read it. They can respond to it. It gives you the illusion of a conversation and an audience but ultimately, I’m realizing, it’s completely disconnected.
Or Facebook. How you can upload 60 photos from your last party so that everyone you know can see them, comment on them. Nice dress. Nice drink. Who’s that? But most likely, the majority of your “friends” weren’t even invited. And you probably haven’t talked to them in months or years anyway.
Hell, I forget that I’m friends with half the people on my list. A few times, I’ve tried to send a friend request to someone that was already my friend. More often, I see an update and think. Why am I friends with Charlotte Adsero? Would I even recognize Stan Holbrook if I saw him on the street? (I like Twitter more anyway. Even if none of my friends have hopped on the bangwagon yet. Besides @FarmForward.)
One of the oldest human customs, and something still common among newly-immigrated populations, was for multiple generations of a family to share a living space. To pool their resources for food, cleaning and transportation and have the older generation provide childcare and education to the youngest generation.
It’s a custom that’s largely seen as being unnatural in our culture.
Yet, I’m reading about tent cities popping up near major cities. Formerly middle-class people lose their jobs and homes but have nowhere to go, so they end up homeless.
On one hand, I’m relieved that I have family and friends I can depend on so that I never have to worry about ending up in a tent city or shelter.
But I can’t help wondering how someone ends up in that situation where they don’t. So sometimes — when it’s too hot for me to fall asleep right away or cold enough that I wake up in the middle of the night — this what I think about
There must be a narrative that makes it make sense how the logical conclusion can be to live in a tent city, or on the street, rather than under another family members roof and rules and customs. American families are shrinking in size. There was that major moral/religious/financial/political disagreement between the generations.
But don’t they have other options? Maybe someone from Facebook.
It’s nice to have the cats, and not have the worry, but it would be quite difficult to live like this forever.
This is, by the way, is another rant about how Americans are broken. How we’ve somehow become even more disconnected from basic social ties. Family. Friendship. Whichever.
I have to explain Twitter at work almost every day. You post a short message. 140 characters or less. You friends can read it. They can respond to it. It gives you the illusion of a conversation and an audience but ultimately, I’m realizing, it’s completely disconnected.
Or Facebook. How you can upload 60 photos from your last party so that everyone you know can see them, comment on them. Nice dress. Nice drink. Who’s that? But most likely, the majority of your “friends” weren’t even invited. And you probably haven’t talked to them in months or years anyway.
Hell, I forget that I’m friends with half the people on my list. A few times, I’ve tried to send a friend request to someone that was already my friend. More often, I see an update and think. Why am I friends with Charlotte Adsero? Would I even recognize Stan Holbrook if I saw him on the street? (I like Twitter more anyway. Even if none of my friends have hopped on the bangwagon yet. Besides @FarmForward.)
One of the oldest human customs, and something still common among newly-immigrated populations, was for multiple generations of a family to share a living space. To pool their resources for food, cleaning and transportation and have the older generation provide childcare and education to the youngest generation.
It’s a custom that’s largely seen as being unnatural in our culture.
Yet, I’m reading about tent cities popping up near major cities. Formerly middle-class people lose their jobs and homes but have nowhere to go, so they end up homeless.
On one hand, I’m relieved that I have family and friends I can depend on so that I never have to worry about ending up in a tent city or shelter.
But I can’t help wondering how someone ends up in that situation where they don’t. So sometimes — when it’s too hot for me to fall asleep right away or cold enough that I wake up in the middle of the night — this what I think about
There must be a narrative that makes it make sense how the logical conclusion can be to live in a tent city, or on the street, rather than under another family members roof and rules and customs. American families are shrinking in size. There was that major moral/religious/financial/political disagreement between the generations.
But don’t they have other options? Maybe someone from Facebook.
posted by M S Martinez at 4/08/2009 08:42:00 AM
2 Comments:
You seemed to veer away from the subject, and then come back. I would guess that you wrote this while at work, for the State of Utah. Am i right?
No. Not to get pretentious (cough) but the greeks call it parekbasis. ;)
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