I’ve haven’t had any internet service to my house over the past twelve days and have felt like my head had been cut off.
Okay, it probably wasn’t quite that bad – although I now have an image of myself running headless around the backyard waiting for my body to catch up with the fact that it no longer has a brain. This childhood memory rears its ‘head’ from time to time – particularly when I feel like a headless chicken.
I do own a a ‘smart phone’ so I have hardly been disconnected from the world, but why did this loss hit me so hard?
It wasn’t that long ago that a push button telephone (on a landline connected to the house from cables in the street) was the ‘it’ communication tool. Remember before that there was a dial phone, sitting on its own table in the hallway. Recall the comforting sound it made as it arced back around to the beginning as you charted its numerical course. Remember how grumpy you got when you spun in error and had to start all over again.
Wasn’t it just a few years ago I bought a Commodore 64 and felt pretty cool playing table tennis with blocks? Oh the nights I stayed up until 10pm playing with that little beauty! I couldn’t wait to brag to my friends the next day about my high scores.
Only half a decade ago I packed away all my communications technology – my PC and mobile phone – and with nothing but an analogue watch headed off on the trip of a lifetime. Okay so I did have a wireless enabled lap top but I didn’t always have Wi-Fi. And yes I did borrow a friend’s spare mobile phone for a few weeks while in London. But apart from those, mostly I was naked and free of communication tools.
In those olden days I didn’t need to connect so often.
So what has changed so much that even though I can still communicate so easily, I am lost without the ‘real’ internet?
It’s the promise of betterment in beautiful bright digital images that warm my screen and my heart.
Yes, I confess. I am an online window shopper and quite frankly the images that appear on a ‘fivebysevencm’ screen just don’t provide the necessary fix. How can a fivebysevencm give me the full picture of those on-sale winter dresses, those bargain tea cups and saucers, that house for sale down my street, that calorie free chocolate (actually I haven’t found that yet but I am sure when I do a fivebysevencm wouldn’t give it the prominence it deserves), or those fabulous red knee high wide calf boots I am looking for?
‘Bah,’ I say to the loss of catching up with everyone’s gossip from all those interwebspace social pages (I was a member of one until an old ex high school boyfriend sent me pictures of himself in budgie smugglers*). I don’t miss those! ‘Bah,’ to playing online games with opponents from all over the world.
Besides I am on Twitter for all those who want to catch up on what I am doing. Alright, I don’t tweet much but that is because I am too busy with my online window shopping – when I have an internet service.
I missed my pictures – mostly generated from emails offering great specials from those whom I have loyalty – or a least a loyalty card. I miss my images of goods and chattels that promise to make mine, the Cliche’s and the Clichettes’ lives more fabulous and interesting and fulfilled than they currently are.
I missed you my icons of Shangri-La from the land of milk and honey and the Garden of Eden. I missed you…
*Thanks Urban Dictionary for that more than apt definition.