| |
|
by Stephen Enzweiler
November 13, 2009
I just returned from a week spent inside a black hole!
I don’t mean the kind of black hole that gobbles up light and swallows galaxies whole and causes your body mass to increase exponentially until you fragment into infinitely small atomic protoplasm. But it was a black hole, nonetheless.
I stumbled into the gravitational field of the beast while on a long needed vacation in the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee last week. Working as a writer for most of the year without any time off takes its toll. So, my wife Patty suggested we take some time off and go to the mountains to recharge our batteries.
It seemed like a good idea. I’d never been there before and it sounded like a good opportunity to catch up on some fishing, de-stress from the daily parade, and maybe catch up on email and get a jump on a few approaching deadlines.
So, down we went, renting a cozy little chalet in the mountains overlooking ridge after blue smoky ridge of the most gorgeous scenery you can find anywhere east of the Rockies. The chalet we rented came fully equipped with all the amenities: a full kitchen, fireplaces in the all the bedrooms, and a hot tub on the back deck where one could soothe the aching carcass after a day of hiking. It even had its own built-in nightly entertainment in the form of fearless black bears that noisily raided our garbage cans without mercy.
Yes, the chalet came with just about everything. But it didn’t come with one thing: it didn’t come with internet.
And there was no way to get it, either. There was no dial-up, no wireless, no DSL, and no kidding. Frantic, I tried to tap into the neighbor’s wireless network without success. So I rigged a kind of antenna made from twine, coat hangars, and aluminum foil, but that didn't work either. Surely I could get some kind of signal to tap into. But I couldn't get internet no matter how hard I tried. Hope I don't have to give back my engineering degree.
All at once I found myself inside that black hole I mentioned earlier, where I couldn't communicate with anyone. I couldn't see straight, felt dizzy, and broke out in a cold sweat. Then the DT’s came and was trapped with nowhere to go. Nothing but darkness all around. Despair, loss, loneliness...(insert silent scream.)
Well, maybe that's a bit meloramatic, but you get the point. Like so many folks today, I spend a lot of time on the computer and almost as much time working on the internet. I write mostly, and email friends and colleagues, do work, research, post articles, and submit work to publishers. I even use internet as a way of relaxing. It has become a way of life and a way of doing business that comes pretty easy anymore. It’s like a kid in a candy store. And oh what candy internet life had become! But never in my wildest imaginings did I consider what it would be like if I suddenly had to do without it.
After the initial panic attack subsided and I stopped hyperventilating, Patty brought me a beer and gently reminded me that, after all, dear, it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe typing for a while on my laptop would assuage the savage email beast in me. Moving my fingers across the keys might act to calm me like a pacifier calms a baby. But alas, all I seemed to be able to do was stare at my laptop and feel lost.
|
|
In fact, feelings of loss are the main symptom of internet withdrawal, according to some research I read. I’m convinced if the internet had been around in the time of Moses, Yaweh would have made it one of the plagues on Egypt.
After several days of compulsive nail-biting and gnawing on the furniture, Patty suggested that maybe taking a hike would get my mind off of it for a while. So we went hiking. I have to admit it did take my mind off being without internet...or at least the black bear we encountered that chased us four miles through the woods did. That worked like a champ I don’t mind telling you. And I didn’t think about the internet again for quite some time. At least not until after the painful blisters on my feet stopped bleeding. By then, the DT’s had finally stopped and I was suddenly amazed to look around and notice my eyes could focus on objects more than twenty inches away. I even began to use my typewriter that I'd brought with me. Didn't even need a switch to turn it on.
I suddenly realized that whatever it was I had had, I'd had it bad. Just like my attorney, who practically lives on his backberry. He has full internet, email and cell phone. The thing is a ready-made stock broker, car mechanic, latte maker, piano tuner, toenail clipper, chimney sweep, carpenter, pool boy, paralegal assistant, Maytag repairman, and chief cook and bottle washer.
The only thing I've never seen his blackberry do is go to the bathroom; but they've probably got an 'app' for that somewhere, too. I once asked him what he would do if he suddenly had no blackberry. He replied that he'd almost certainly end up on the defendant side of the aisle in a courtroom.
According to a Dr. Kimberly S. Young, founder and CEO of the Center for Online Addiction in Bradford, Pennsylvania, compulsive internet use is a genuine addiction no less significant than alcohol or drugs. It can lead to broken marriages, job loss and legal problems, social isolation, increased depression, marriage problems, divorce, academic failure, and financial failure. It can also lead to long hikes in the woods that get you chased by black bears.
In the end, my detox experience taught me that there is life inside these black holes after all. There are many alternative ways to communicate and do business besides the internet. Someday, I expect the world wide web to suffer some kind of systemic convulsion and just roll over and die. I wonder what people would do then. The bears would have a field day.
There are many positive outcomes to getting out of the technology rut, not the least of which were that my wife and I found more quality time to be together, which is always a good and necessary thing. Also, my 1952 Royal manual typewriter and I are back on speaking terms again and are planning to write a book together. I stopped my nail-biting habit, too; and I learned that you can outrun a black bear if you are scared enough.
Finally, last week's experience of "doing without" gave me another great story to write about. Just don’t tell anyone I wrote it on the internet.
Posted: 13 November 2009
__________________________________________
Stephen Enzweiler is a writer and Contributing Editor for Y'all Magazine, the Magazine of Southern People, headquartered in historic Oxford, Mississippi. Contact him at: steve@yall.com
|
