Tag Archives: cave dweller

Alone in a Crowded Room

alone in a crowded room

Most days, it takes a lot to blast me out of my cave. Family events will do it because they’re few and far between; running out of coffee will do it (that’s a given!); a new movie will do it if the movie falls within a finite range of interest (sci-fi, zombies, super heroes, and Tom Hanks); and benefits (or favors) for friends. That’s about it.

A Gathering of Angels: Sunday Funday for Annette!

This past weekend, after the Big Reveal, after the Ocean Pond Clubhouse adventure, I attended a cancer-fund-raising-event for a friend. Annette is an awesome woman, a fighter, a kick-ass warrior who normally plows right through life with a vengeance. Several months ago, she was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Calling in the angels, her friends and family began working together to raise money to help pay for Annette’s medical treatment. As a waitress, Annette works without the handy perk of medical insurance, much like everyone else I know in this part of the country. To add insult to injury, her treatment involves the need for a shot, one shot, that costs $6,000 per injection. I can’t even begin to imagine what miracle drug must be in that syringe that would warrant a $6,000 price tag, but the doctors say that this is her chance for recovery. Annette’s tumors are shrinking. She looks great despite everything she’s going through, and she has the support of friends and family and a community that has accepted her with open arms.

I stood on the periphery during the event, wandering from the bar inside to the patio out back trying to engage in conversation with people I see at my brother’s gigs, friends of Annette’s, friends of friends, acquaintances, even strangers who have gathered for a common cause. I’m not good at small talk. I’m not really comfortable in crowds. I can’t say that I’d rather I’d stayed home because I wanted to be there for Annette, for my brother who’d helped organize the event and was playing under a leaky tent in pouring rain through thunder and lightning, for his girlfriend Barb (Annette’s sister and a longtime family friend). I wanted to be there in the mix, adding my positive energy to the flowing glow of love that swirled around me. But I still felt like an interloper standing on the fringe of the party not knowing how to engage.

Why is that? I often wonder what it is that makes me so uncomfortable. Have I spent so much time alone that I’ve lost my social skills? I don’t think so. I’ve never had the desire to hang out with the crowd, to be one of the guys, to join the team. Even as a child, I was a loner. I had friends but I was happier one-on-one. My brothers are the same way. We are quiet, introspective people, alone but never lonely. I think it runs in the family.

Family–when you least expect it!

After forty years, I reconnected with a cousin at the event. He’d made contact with my brother a couple of years ago and come up from south Florida to support Annette. He immediately reminded me of my brothers with his calm, happy demeanor. He is gentle and kind and quiet. I watched him move through the crowd like me, a part of it but separate. I admit, I don’t really know my cousin well after our short time together but I felt a kindred spirit gazing back at me, a person happy to observe, to support, and to stand on the sidelines, happy to be alone in a crowded room. Maybe he’s even a cave dweller like me. I hope to get to know him better and find out.

 Just for Fun!

A black labrador dog is decorated for a Fourth of July Picnic

There is no way in the world I would be able to get my look-alike black lab Bella to stand still long enough to attach a holiday bow but I thought this photo (from Pinterest) was appropriate for how I’ll be spending my 4th of July. I hope you have a safe and happy holiday! See you soon!

World War Z: We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Cave!

world-war-z-movie-wallpaper-6018

If you read yesterday’s post, A Cave After My Own Heart, you know that one of the highlights of my visit with family this past weekend was the opportunity to explore the 109 year old Ocean Pond Clubhouse. It’s a beautiful place situated seemingly out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by an alligator and snake infested swamp. Very picturesque. Now, imagine the creaking, creeping sounds generated by an old wood-frame house buffeted by wind and rain, all of the attendant shadows from dimmed lamps, animal skulls, and an intermittent moon layered over the after-images of a horror movie flickering on the insides of your eyelids. And not just any movie, a zombie movie! World War Z!

A sweet afternoon party–punctuated by fear and popcorn

I think I’ve mentioned before that my youngest daughter is a zombie freak. She is both terrified and fascinated by the idea of a zombie apocalypse. So, for her birthday, after the big reveal that we are actually going to Scotland rather than Tahiti in July, after the conferring on her the title of Lady of Glencoe by a tall, good-looking Scotsman in full kilted regalia, with sword and sash no less, we went to the movies to watch zombies take over the world. Once again–YIKES!

For once, I am very happy that the movie is, so far as I’ve read, nothing like the book. I’m only about a third of way through and I’ve yet to encounter the thread that ties to the movie beyond the fact that these are, indeed, very fast moving undead. Or walking dead. Or the reanimated. Call them what you will, they are extremely creepy, resourceful, and although not Walking-Dead-gory, scary as hell.

If you haven’t seen World War Z, I’ll try not to spoil it for you. Besides, if you’ve seen the movie trailer, you’ve pretty much seen the movie as there are very few remaining surprises. (Don’t you hate that?) I knew when to cover my eyes, when to look away from the screen, but for this movie, I wish I’d thought about ear plugs. During what could have been the goriest of scenes, the camera tended to focus away from the action, but the sound effects were explicitly clear, emphasizing the gnashing of teeth and the snap of the bite.

BOOM!

The first inkling of trouble comes with a boom off in the distance, sounding much like the M-80s the kids down the street from me have been setting off in anticipation of the upcoming holiday. The noise sets my dogs to barking and sends chills up my spine. I know, it was only a movie, but the aural sensation, even without the visual, is spectacularly jarring.

Back at Ocean Pond, in the big old house with a million windows and creaking wood floors, each sound exacerbated a sense of doom. Forget ghostly specters; forget crazed ax murders. That scraping noise, that clawing sound? That backfire out on the highway? That could only be one thing: they’re here! Zombies! Which makes my next present for my daughter a no-brainer (pun intended).

world-war-z-book-summary-19

Are you a movie fan? If so, take the poll and let me know what you think.

A Cave After My Own Heart

Being away from the cave is usually an interesting event for me. Putting on my social face and going out into the world is definitely not stepping into my happy place, but occasionally, I have to just suck it up and do it. This past weekend, it was for a good cause. Well, two good causes actually. I had fun but I’m happy to be home.

Ocean Pond 02

My daughter and her family are house-sitting at a beautiful old fishing camp not far from their home. The house, built in 1904, is as Walton-esque as it gets with a wide wrap-around, screened-in front porch lined with rocking chairs facing a huge three-pronged lake and a rabbit hutch cozied into a corner.

Ocean Pond: The End of the Road

Just driving down the single-lane dirt road with over-arching pin and water oaks laden with Spanish moss transported me to a state of quietude and peace–once I’d gotten over my wariness of entering this respite from home with its real threat of alligators, rattlesnakes, and snapping turtles. (And it is a real threat. People have gone missing in this lake, fishermen stepping onto the shore at the wrong time and at the wrong place.)

OP trees 02

Inside, the first floor of the house is set up for entertaining. There are two industrial strength kitchens with massive gas ranges and restaurant-ready refrigerators. Four dining rooms hold massive wooden tables and enough chairs to seat a small army. Typical lodge artifacts line the walls: fish, alligator skulls, lures, nets, paintings and posters and newspaper articles about adventures long forgotten. I could imagine this place in its heyday filled with fishermen lounging by the fireplaces (of which there are many), drinks in hand, telling fish stories while waiting for the evening meal to be served.

The house was built as a bed and breakfast for camp members, and was, according to the articles on the walls, a good place for a Saturday night dinner out on the town with friends from New York, or LA, or Savannah. I admit I couldn’t quite picture that scenario given that this place is situated precisely at the end of the road less traveled but I suppose these members must have been hearty folk to begin with to spend their days on waters infested with every manner of dangerous critter. And it must have been a hoot to drag their guests, willing or unwilling, out into the swamps for a meal.

The second floor is the caretaker’s home, a four bedroom, three bath apartment with tall windows (with original glass) and thick carpet over creaking hardwood floors. There are cabinets and closets galore, a central dining room, and a living room on the north end overlooking the lake. It’s homey and comfortable and “creepy as all get out” in the words of my grandson.

Rocking chairs 02

It was a little creepy but it’s a cave dweller’s dream, nestled far away from the hustle of life. I drank my morning coffee while I lounged in a rocking chair older than me on a porch built before my grandfather was born. I felt at peace while I rocked and dreamed and realized that this was a cave after my own heart.

The Joy (and Power) of Being Right Here

Over the past few weeks, Cave Dweller has become a fun and important part of my daily life. I appreciate those of you who stop by to visit my blog on a regular or a transitory basis, taking a moment out of your day to read and/or comment. Your comments are important to me and I’m equally happy to receive emails or messages on my Facebook page.

Yesterday, I was asked how the idea for Cave Dweller came about. I’d like to say that I was struck by a moment of divine inspiration, which feels kind of true, but actually, for quite some time, I’ve been looking for a place to share my thoughts on what has become a major theme in my writing: living alone in a social world. Cave Dweller has become that outlet for me and for what I want to say.

On June 1, 2013, my blog post at colleensayre.com put into perspective some of my thoughts about life and writing so I suppose this was a defining moment for me in moving away from writing about writing to writing about life. This feels like the kick-starter for Cave Dweller and I suppose I have my son to thank for that (among a myriad of other fine things).

What follows is an approximation of my June 1, post. (I guess I could have just inserted a link to the page–the better to get you to browse my website–but I like it here in my little cave and didn’t want to send you adventuring unnecessarily.) The layout is different from the original but the content remains the same:

Sandy Feet

My son wants to buy a boat. I got a text message from him this morning at 6:54, which means it’s 3:54 where he is. “Nevermind why I’m up . . . the bottom of Hello is cut off!” he said from 2,000 miles away. I read this as I sat drinking my nth cup of coffee and wondering what else I could do to promote my book (which was released last night) besides send a tweet every five seconds and plaster Facebook with ads and promos and the usual pleas of “please buy my book.”

Happy Dance

[BTW: I found an app called Buncee that makes posters and invitations and all kinds of cool stuff on the fly and I wanted to give it a try. I’d seen a cool .gif of a cat doing a happy dance on Bing and was intrigued by the “make your own” tagline. So, I whipped up a little picture with a book announcement (alas, I couldn’t figure out how to make the cat or to make this one dance) and posted it at about 6:52. Come “like” me on Facebook to see my Buncee.]

At 6:55, I repaired the truncated Hello (a very easy fix), thanked my son for the alert, and then read that he’d “spent the night reading about sailing certifications. Just need a boat big enough to carry the ‘Dragon’ onboard.”

My response? OMG!

Dragon

The “Dragon” is his motorcycle, his escape hatch, his get-out-of-jail-free card. It is his parachute, his springboard, and his path to sanity. But now he wants to buy a boat. I’m wondering where on earth he wants to ride that requires three vehicles to get there: the car to haul the boat, the boat to haul the bike, the bike to haul his butt all over creation so that he can feel free and untethered.

Don’t get me wrong! I love adventuring. I love my son. I love that my son loves to go adventuring. But I’m also wondering when my son will realize that he has already arrived. He’s there. He’s here! The adventure is happening all around him. Maybe he already has realized it and my worry is just a mother’s frenzy over her son’s desire for yet another dangerous toy. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve been reading about and thinking about the art of staying put and contemplating how to find my own joy.

Martha Beck (www.MarthaBeck.com) has written an interesting piece for O Magazine this month: “The Grass Ain’t Greener.” (Sorry, I couldn’t find a direct link to the article but it can be found in the “May We Help You?” section.) Beck’s focus is FOMO, Fear Of Missing Out. What it really boils down to is this: from this side of the fence (or the computer screen), it seems to me that everyone has a happier, more exciting, more extravagant life than I do. And I want what everybody else has!

The article got me thinking. Being a fear-based phenomenon, FOMO creates all kinds of problems not the least of which is the anxiety created from rushing around from here to there and back again looking for a place, your place, the place where you will feel at home—even temporarily. It seems that almost immediately after arriving at our destination, the wheels begin to turn yet again and we plot and plan how to get to an even better place with barely a glance at the spot in which we’re standing.

I had a mentor back in the ‘90s who used to insist that the only way to find true peace and happiness is to “bloom where you’re planted.” Mildred Ramsey found inspiration and courage to live an action-packed life, traveling around the country giving seminars and selling her book, The Super Supervisor, wherever she happened to be standing. Mildred could carve out her own little piece of sacred ground, till the soil, and plant her seeds in a dusty parking lot while selling books from the trunk of her car. She’s one of the few people I’ve met in my life who could be on the move, rushing in ten different directions, and still be totally centered and at home wherever she stood. (And without a hair out of place, I might add!)

Unlike Mildred, I think most of us are constantly searching for the next thing that will bring us joy or happiness or security, searching for that little piece of ourselves that’s blowing on a breeze in the far off reaches of somewhere else. There is joy and power in being right here and right now. There is something adventurous about experiencing this moment, breathing this air, in this place of all places.

Mildred Ramsey

I think the magic of life, the cure for FOMO, is finding ourselves in the now, in this blink-of-an-eye moment of life, cherishing it, and then taking that joy into the next moment—no matter where we find ourselves.

As a writer, I have to keep reminding myself that it’s okay to find my joy in the writing process rather than in the number of books I sell. I am happy at my desk with the world revolving right outside my window. I’m creating my own worlds, my own friends, my own experiences and finding pleasure in the sensation of living with one foot on the floor and the other resting on the haunch of the black lab curled up at my feet. Mind you, it took me 42 moves to get here and there were moments when I believed that the gods were playing some weird game of chess with my life, but I’m here. In this moment. Breathing this air. And I am thankful for it.

Life is what it is. And it’s ours. Here and now. Bring on the joy!

And Topher. . . Sweetie . . . don’t buy the boat! 🙂

George Lucas Got Married and I Feel Dizzy

 

 

George lucas 01

Is George Lucas a Cave Dweller? I’ve always thought so. He seems like someone who values his privacy. Then again, if he has everything he needs at his ranch, why leave? But maybe that’s just the impression I’ve gotten from what I’ve read about him. Or maybe it’s just that I like the idea that he’s a quiet soul living a sequestered life away from the weirdness of the real world. Nevertheless, I read this morning that George Lucas got married. Good for him!

Now the dizzy part: I’ve taken to cruising through Goggle Trends lately, checking out the big top ten of what’s happening in the world. It sure beats wading through website after website. Then again . . . George Lucas was the top trending story, so I clicked to find out why.

Tread lightly through the mine field!

I use Chrome as my web browser with all popups turned off, yet I had to wade through a myriad of advertisements just to get to the story (and heaven forbid you accidentally click on an image while trying to X-out of a pop-up!). Upon arriving at the landing page, I was lambasted by more ads surrounding and clouding the seven sentences in six paragraphs that briefly identified Lucas, his bride, and a short list of attendees at his wedding. Had the story not been in large font, the better to take up space, I would never have been able to find it among the whirly-gigs vying for attention.

Shiny, whirly, shiny!

At the top of the screen, just below the banner that hosted every social icon known to man–as well as small ads for sponsors–was a camera limping along pushing letters out of the way; a video on the right showed running commercial segments for unidentifiable products; below video number one ran video number two advertising a credit card. Sandwiched between the paragraphs and the videos were other advertisements, sponsor notices, and links to other news and trending topics and related stories and more news about other people only marginally related to anything on the page.  I’m assuming there was a little profiling going on here along the lines of, “if you like this story about this guy, then you might like these stories about these people, too!” Yikes!

And people wonder why we suffer from attention deficit disorder. Even that discussion is enough to cause symptoms: AD/HD [A.D.D. OR ADHD]–the whole strings of letters–is now the acceptable term. How can anyone not be distracted from original intent if we are constantly bombarded by–Oh, look! Shiny!

A couple of years ago, I considered walking away from TV for good. I found myself turning more toward the internet for news and weather updates, where everything I needed was instantly accessible. I’m finding that’s not necessarily true anymore. If I have to click through ad after ad, wade through tons of video clips and news bytes just to get to the information I need, it defeats the purpose. My purpose anyway. I don’t want to be smacked in the face by advertisements. I realize that many people are making a lot of money on blog/news ads, but this is ridiculous. I don’t watch CNN because I hate that scroller that brings me all the news I don’t want all the time. The internet is now inundated with the same stuff presented in the same way.

Where’s a Cave Dweller to go for simple, straight-forward news? I’m still looking. And clicking, and . . . Oh, look! Shiny!

Just for Fun!

Dandelion

I love this image and it feels appropriate today.

A Different Kind of Day

Sunlight

It’s been a different kind of day for me today. As much as I’ve resisted the need, I went into town for the second time this week. My friend Mary and I have a standing Tuesday-like-clockwork lunch date which forces me to leave the comfy confines of my cave and venture out into the sunlight–or more accurately, the rain–one day a week, at least for the 90 minutes it takes me to drive into town, wolf down lunch, and zip home, stopping off for groceries or dog food if necessary.

 Yikes!

Today, though, was a shopping day (Yikes!) and as much as I dreaded doing it, I changed up my routine: Coffee, smoothie, email, internet news, and then (gulp), I got dressed and left the house. On a Thursday. At nine o’clock in the morning. Me out in the real world. (Did I say Yikes!?)

My daughter’s birthday is coming up soon and this year, I want to do something a little different. Like me, my daughter doesn’t like surprises, but it’s so much fun plotting and planning and keeping secrets. I usually buy her a book (or send her one for her Kindle); sometimes I visit and we go out to dinner or to a movie if there happens to be a good zombie thriller she wants to see. (I’m thinking World War Z but I won’t be with her opening weekend and I seriously doubt she’ll wait for me.)

 The Eyes Have It

This year will be different. I’ve recently discovered the joys (as opposed to the usual curses) of Photoshop Elements. It’s been trial and error, with a heavy emphasis on error, since I downloaded the program several months ago. I’m finally getting the hang of it, though, and I can proudly say that as of this afternoon, there is not a single photo in my picture files that hasn’t been tweaked in some small way. My kids might not think that’s such a good thing, but I happen to be very happy with the sparkling eyes and superimposed backdrops that I’ve learned how to create. So, my daughter is a getting a photo montage of her family–but only the eyes, black and white, of course, with black matting in black frames. Actually, it looks pretty cool.

Braes eyes

It was worth the trip out to the crafts store, the meandering around the aisles looking for exactly what I needed. It was actually almost fun shopping for a beach bag, towel, sun hat, and insulated drink cup to be raffled off with signed copies of my three novels at a cancer benefit next week. I made it home in record time, too, just before the afternoon storm rolled in with a timpani of thunder. And then I settled into my cave, ignored my email and the chime of my phone, and framed my prints. Present complete.

And I now have coffee. Did I mention I was out of coffee? If you want to know the truth, that’s the real reason I ventured out. But we’ll tell my daughter it was for her present. Shhh. Secrets.

Just for fun!

Leap of Faith

 

 

I am Driftwood…

It’s not often that I feel totally cut off from the world or really mind if I am. But there are times when it’s quite disconcerting to find myself adrift in a quiet world.

Lightning

Thunder storms are common this time of year in Florida. Lightning struck last night wiping out cable, wifi, and telephone service. Although I still had lights, I found myself without my normal means of connection to the outside world. Cell service was still up and running and I suppose I could have reached out through my limited and precious 3G data plan, but after making the rounds again and again, confirming that, yes, the cable was still out, I finally settled down with a glass of wine and an old familiar friend: William Gibson.

So, what to do when there’s nothing to do? Read, read, read!

It’s a sad state of affairs in my cave that I have read every book I own at least once and in some cases, many times more than once. It is also sad that when I pulled Spook Country off the shelf, I couldn’t immediately remember the plot which made it a good choice for a rainy night alone but a sad choice because I can clearly remember the story lines of Neuromancer, Count Zero, Burning Chrome, Mona Lisa Overdrive. I wasn’t sure if this was a statement about my functional memory or the book itself.  Twenty minutes later, I decided it had to do with the book as my mind wandered away from the story and back to the video I had been working on when lightning struck.

My mind was still on angels and healing and the power we each hold within ourselves. The video is a very short introduction to A Gathering of Angels. I was in the process of posting it on YouTube when my computer freaked out and I suddenly lost all control. I couldn’t move forward, I couldn’t shut down, I couldn’t refresh or even minimize. I sat waiting for a resurge of energy to kick start my programs but nothing happened.

I sat bobbing in the water, waiting for another wave to carry me to shore. I am driftwoodWashed upon the shore. Once a lover of the tides but I don’t think I can take that anymore. I am becalmed by too many years of dissonance and solitude, but harmony and love can move my soul. It moves my soul. (Paul Williams, of course. If you haven’t heard Driftwood, find it if you can. I hesitate to point you to a download site that may or may not be a bootleg.)

So, I’m back at work this morning after a very quiet night, connected, becalmed, harmonious. My wine glass, still full, was sitting on the table with my unread book this morning. I went to bed early, a rare event for me.

I am still adrift in my thoughts today, wondering if I should attempt, once again, to upload that video. For now, I’ll post it on this page and see where we go from here.  A Gathering of Angels

Just for Fun.

elephant and kitten

When you find yourself in a river of doubt, help can show up in the most unexpected ways.

Running Late–But Running

I didn’t think there was anything that would keep me from finding my way to the back row of the Cineplex for today’s first showing of Man of Steel. I was ready! All I needed was one more cup of coffee and a quick shower and then Woo Hoo! Off to the movies.

The-Newsroom

I was wrong. I didn’t count on a power outage that lasted long enough to throw me off schedule (two hours!) or HBO’s rebroadcast of The Newsroom. (When the power finally came back on, I flipped on the TV just to make sure we weren’t in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and it was tuned to HBO.) Damn! Double Damn! There is someone I love more than a hunk in a cape and a tight fitting body suit–even with a stylized S. His name is Will McAvoy! Actually, it’s probably more accurate to say that I am enamored of Aaron Sorkin since he is the creator of The Newsroom and it’s inhabitants and I am intrigued with the entire cast to some degree but, nah, it’s McAvoy. I get sucked in every time!  

So, I made it to the 5:30 and walked out of the theater at dusk, more than a little perplexed.

 ALERT! ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!

I’ll try not to spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen Man of Steel. This is one of those movies you have to see for yourself. I will say that I am not a fan of the retelling. I love Superman: the epic, mythical story-line, the romance between Lois and Clark, even the silliness of a bumbling Clark Kent’s ability to hide his true identity behind a simple pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Unfortunately, those elements were missing. Actually, this felt more like Man of Steel III: The Big Reveal rather than the first, base story that gets the audience hooked on the characters and sets the stage for future chapters/movies. 

As you might expect, there are fights and fights and more fights and explosions and massive destruction. Overall, the movie seemed more an excuse to produce 3-D pyrotechnics than to tell a compelling story. I expected a climactic battle, but this was overkill, going on and on until I just wanted it to be over. Here’s the plot: Birth, battle, escape, rescue, rescue, battle, battle, battle, death, battle, rescue. Battle, battle, battle, kiss, battle to the death.  I kept waiting for the shocking twist that would make it worth so much destruction but nope. No twist. Well, there is one but not in a good way.

Man of steel 02

This poster is a pretty good representation of the movie: dark.

I love movies. I love good movies and I’ve been looking forward to seeing Man of Steel. The cast is a good one (Diane Lane, Russell Crowe, Kevin Costner, Henry Cavill), the story doesn’t really need much tweaking, and the big scenes were just waiting to be shot in glorious, full-color 3-D. But the story’s still hanging out there somewhere, I can feel it, floating among the debris of Krypton, coalescing into something much more substantial. Maybe that was the plan. Get the battle scenes out of the way and then do a prequel. That seems to be the way to make movies nowadays.

Let me know what you think of Man of Steel. I’d love to hear from you.

Social Paradigms: An Ever Evolving Dilemma

love letter

A long, long time ago, way back in the 90s, I attended a seminar on the evolution of technology in our modern, high tech world. The phrase used to explain how human beings respond to our ever expanding technical world at the time was “high tech/high touch” and not, coincidentally, the name of the seminar.   Supposedly, the more high tech we become, the more necessary it is that we experience high touch. The presenter, who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent, posited the idea that the more email we send (high tech), the more desirous we become to write long letters using pen and paper (high touch). The more dependent on technology we become to assist in our work, the more touch-y we would become in our personal lives.

There was life before smart stuff.

Even before the advent of smart phones, the IPad, and various other tablet conveniences, I scoffed at the idea that we (meaning I) would revert to the long-handed version of communicating via snail mail rather than the almost instantaneous gratification of email. Yes, there is something to be said for flowery, perfumed stationary, but if push comes to shove, I’m afraid I would have to say that email is pretty much here to stay. (Notice the rather long-winded and round-about way I said that? I believe that is the high tech version of high touch.) In other words, the more remote we become through technology, the more necessary it will be to connect with our fellow humans, to reach out and touch someone–and not just over the phone.

Cable was already a part of our lives in the 90s. We’d already become inured to the idea that we could stay at home to watch a movie rather than go out; date night could be accomplished with a bowl of popcorn in front of the TV, a small TV, granted, but nonetheless a TV. (I’m not even going to go there with the high tech/high touch in front of the TV. My point is inside, not outside. . . Oh, forget it!)

avatar-tv

Now, here we are in 2013, and I believe we are decidedly more high tech than high touch. We can do almost anything remotely–and I do mean anything. It is not only possible to carry on a relationship long distance and virtually, but for some of us, it is preferable.  Skype and FaceTime make it very easy to carry on a face-to-face conversation, to interact with our friends and loved ones in a very meaningful way regardless of the miles, or the rooms, that separate us. We can be on Mars (it could happen!) or in the next room and not have to suffer from high touch deprivation. High tech gives us the sense of high touch.

Life is constantly changing right along with technology, because of it and in spite of it. The ease with which we carry on our daily lives enables us to experience more free time. For some of us, that free time might be spent out and about with other humans (high touch?). For others, that free time gives us a chance to do even more fun things on the internet (more high tech? Or is that high touch with the things that bring us joy?). Technology gives me the freedom to exist in a very happy and meaningful way from within my comfy cave. I don’t feel strapped to my desk and my computer, I feel blissfully joined. I have a pretty cool life right at my fingertips. Hey, maybe that’s what she meant after all: fingers to keyboard. High touch/high tech.

Just for fun!

George Lucas and Steven Speilberg are, apparently, predicting the implosion of the movie industry. Here is the link–just in case you missed the short article at Speakeasy.

Today’s Friday! Have a great weekend and if I don’t see you until Monday, have fun seeing Man of Steel! Don’t forget to take today’s poll. And leave me a comment! I’d love to hear from you.

 

Time on My Hands

Whaterver Clock with hand 01

This is strange for a weekday, for a Thursday. Today, I have a little time on my hands. Not a lot, but enough to feel like I can actually take a breath without feeling guilty. 

Most days, I have a million things on my to-do list. Granted, my list is self-imposed, but I try very hard to stay on task, to accomplish enough that at the end of the day, I can say to myself, “Good job! You had a productive day!” Most days, I’m working on several projects at once, mostly books in various stages of production: writing, editing, proofing, formatting, marketing, crying, sobbing, pulling out my hair–not in any particular order.

Coffee!

Today, I’m taking a break from the usual whip-cracking pace I set for myself. Today, I’m walking casually from my office to the coffee pot in the kitchen, savoring the aroma of the coffee as I fill my cup. I may even take a moment to gaze out into the backyard at the freshly mown lawn before heading back to my desk. I may even eat breakfast sitting down rather than hunched over a bowl of Rice Chex at the kitchen counter. Make that lunch. I’ve already skipped right through breakfast as I’ve contemplated what to do with my day.

Stay away from Pinterest!

Of course I could always spend my time backlogging blogs or cruising for media. Or visit Twitterland and see what my writer buddies are up to.  I would say I could visit Pinterest to see if there are any cool pins but there’s a yellow post-it on my monitor reminding me to stay away. (I got caught in a time warp in the Geek section of Pinterest a couple of weeks ago and lost two whole hours! That place is addictive!)

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In my ramblings around the internet at 6 this morning, I found this cartoon. I swear, this looks like my living room, dumbbells, books and all. This is pretty much how I feel at the moment, too, wondering what to do with myself now that I feel caught up and I’m between crises.

Well, I think my free time is about up. It’s been a quiet day so far. No major breaking news stories, no urgent messages from family or friends. I think I’ll have another cup of coffee and enjoy these last few minutes before I head back into my day. I hope you’re having a quiet, pleasant Thursday.  Thanks for stopping by. And don’t forget to take today’s poll!