Sam's Vision Quest

As many of you are aware, my husband Sam is off on a solo trek through the wilderness of Northeastern Oregon right now, pursuing what most of us would call a Vision Quest. While many of you think he’s totally insane (and that I must be too for allowing him to do this), I have to tell you that I support what he’s doing 100%. In fact, I’ve been engaged in my own quest in my own way for some time now. Besides, tell me just how I would stop him? Draw all the money out of his bank account? Let the air out of his tires? Be a complete bitch on the subject and insist that he “just forget it, or else?” Please! You all know that’s not me, and perhaps you don’t have the kind of relationship that Sam and I do. We don’t tell each other what we can or cannot do. We can raise objections, if we think the other person is totally off his/her rocker, or if the budget won’t support it, but we have pretty generous limits in our marriage. If it’s something that we really want to do, and we are willing to make the requisite sacrifices of time and money while meeting our other obligations, then our attitude is, “Hey, go for it man!”

I did have two requirements of my own before Sam left on his trip: (1) He needed to have some way of letting me know where he was and that he was all right; and (2) He had to have extra insurance to cover any possible rescue efforts or injuries he might incur. I did not feel these were unreasonable requests, nor did he, so Sam bought a Spot Tracker at REI and paid the subscription's costs of activation and tracking, plus he paid for the accompanying Lloyds of London insurance that went with it.

Sam has been planning this trip for at least the past year and possibly even longer—and I mean PLANNING. Down to the last little gnat, if you know what I mean. While he’s gone, he plans to take a bundle of photographs for at least one book he wants to write, and today I decided that I would keep a journal of sorts too, printing out each Spot Tracker message and the locator photos that go with it, so I can record Sam’s journey in my own way. For some reason, neither of us has ever been able to access the Spot Tracker shared Web page (I always get a “Server is busy, try again later” message), but that’s okay. I AM getting the E-mails whenever the beacon sends a message.

So Honey, have a great time! I know you wish I were there, and so do I, but that time will come. This is your time to do what you need to do, and those experiences should not always be shared with someone else—at least not at the moment when you are engaged in doing them. I look forward to hearing all about your journey and looking at all the incredible photographs when you return. I know they will be awesome.

The New Zombies

Tell me, am I the only one who is upset and annoyed by the current trend of so many people walking around with their noses glued to their cell phones? Whatever happened to life without constant interruptions and being continuously hooked up to everyone (that is, everyone else who’s plugged in) on the planet? Whatever happened to “normal” life, where you talked to the person who was in front of you, and actually looked at them and paid attention? I am very unhappy with and disturbed by this behavior. It reminds me far too much of the Borg of Star Trek Next Generation fame.

Who would have guessed that the telephone and the Internet would have such consequences? Not me. I happily got my first cell phone so I could call 911 if I fell off my horse on a trail ride (I used to ride by myself all the time—and I often still do) and to locate my husband Sam if I needed to ask or tell him something. It was a convenience to ME, and I rarely used it.

Likewise with the Internet: Sam and I got our first PC, courtesy of a friend who used to rebuild them and give them away (it was his hobby and way of giving back to others), because Sam was writing a book. Our friend Tim came by for a visit one afternoon and found Sam literally cutting and pasting his book copy on the living room floor and told Sam that there was a better way. The next thing we knew, we were signed up for Qwest dial-up and had our own E-mail accounts. Wow! Sam pretty much stuck to writing his book, but as for me, I was plugged into the world and everything I could ask for on the Internet. I jumped in and basically never looked back, shopping for Christmas presents and paying all my bills on-line—that is, until I got onto Face book. That is such an incredible time suck that I refuse to go there more than once a month, and I’m considering chucking it entirely, I hate it so much!

I really haven’t been unset with most incarnations of modern day Tech up to now. I feel comfortable with most of it in fact, happily playing my iPod Touch and watching TV shows on my dinner break at work, for example. I used to look forward to whatever E-mails all my friends would forward me every day like a kid on Christmas morning, and I spent a great deal of time reading, replying, and forwarding them on—that is, until my PC got a virus from one. That put a sudden end to enjoying all those attachments. Then too, it occurred to me that all of this was replacing real human interaction. Unlike many people, however, I don’t walk around plugged into my iPod all day long. In some ways, I think the iPod phenomenon may have been partly to blame for the current texting craze, but then who knows how it really got started?

Texting has gone beyond being a craze or an addiction. It is dangerous and absurd! Just the other day I watched a woman (and not a teenager) cross the street at a major intersection without glancing up even once from texting on her cell phone! I’m sure she believed she was perfectly safe, but seriously, I would never do that. If a car had come around the corner and hit her, she would have never known. Then there is the obvious danger of texting while driving. People who do that should have their licenses revoked, their heads examined, and their priorities re-evaluated—and that’s when they are on their own time. Doing social networking while on the job is just plain stealing, in addition to everything else.

Then there’s the appalling rudeness these folks exhibit. I’ve encountered it a number of times while at work with people who can’t put their phones down for the 30 seconds or so it takes to answer my questions and do my job, and I have to say I’ve completely lost patience with them. When they are ready to talk to me, then they can let me know, otherwise I’m not wasting my time being background noise. I’ve even had a couple of them who were really clueless accuse ME of being rude, because I refused to tolerate their rude behavior—and believe me, I’m not about to start.

No, zombies are no longer limited to being the shambling undead in the movies; they have pulses now, and you can find them practically everywhere. These are probably less aware of their surroundings than traditional zombies of Voodoo lore. Those at least knew what they were doing on an elementary level, and zombie-dom was usually not their fault. Maybe one day, medicine will advance to the point where they can just have their phones grafted onto their heads, or put on a special pair of contact lenses. This last is no joke—it’s new technology that’s in the pipeline, according to a brief segment I saw on the TV news not long ago. When that happens, my friends, no one will be safe. As the Borg always say, “Resistance is futile.”