Adventures in Solitude

This will be my last post for a while. Recent event and thoughts have led me to the conclusion that I'm in need of some kind of cleansing, and I'm going to try at one. And that's why I no longer possess a laptop (for a few weeks, anyway). If you're interested in hearing the tale of a great battle with technology, an awestrucking display of consumerism, and wanton disregard of an inner compass, ask me about my Sunday.

I'm actually pretty excited to be disconnected from the Interwebs. Last spring I uninstalled AIM for quite a while, and it felt damn good. People contacted me who actually needed and wanted to, and there were no pity conversations stemming from boredom and obligation:

"what's up?"

"nothing... you"

"nothing"

"cool"

"yeah"

"definitely"

"yep"

So I plan on only using the computer while I'm at work and maybe sometimes while I'm at my sister's house. I'm sick of sitting passively for hours in front of the glowing screen without actually DOING anything, just checking the same websites over and over again, waiting for people to respond to me or hoping something new will pop up. I love the computer, but I've become a mindless addict who has forgotten its meaningful use. In order to get back my appreciation, I must deprive myself of it. I am not telling you all of this to be praised for going inside my little box, although you can admire me from the outside - I don't mind. (Jonathan Lethem reference, anyone? If not, please read The Disappointment Artist.) But it's just to let you all know that although I am not everpresent on your screens, I am still alive. Maybe more alive than ever. Which is both a healthy thing and a scary thing at the same time. Good and bad, bad and bad; I'm still reeling from it all.

I plan on spending my nights attempting to knock off a few books from my shelf of Unreads, watching intellectual programming (such as Law and Order: Criminal Intent, the John Adams miniseries, Rocko's Modern Life and Jon & Kate Plus 8), and walking over to Albany's Riverfront Park in contemplation. What shall I contemplate? Perhaps why certain parts of the park smell

like ass more than others. It's a tough conundrum, but someone's got to tackle it. I'll still be receiving phone calls and e-mails (NO texting, please!), but I know a lot of you young whippersnappers out there prefer more "distant yet instant" forms of communication. Fortunately, I don't know that many of you.

Hopefully this will not mean a hiatus of writing. I hope it's far from it. I bought a nifty notebook today that I am going to break down into sections to keep track of all the little notes and ideas I've written on various smaller notebooks, napkins, and foreheads. And boy! do I have many notes for possible blog posts. You all have something to look forward to since I know your lives rise and fall with my internet insights and memoirs.

In the meantime, I hope you'll allow me to assign you some homework for when I return. Please listen to the entire album "Challengers" by The New Pornographers, and pay special attention to the songs "My Rights Versus Yours," "Myriad Harbour," and "Entering White Cecilia." There will be an extended discussion and response paper due sometime in the month of August. I can't explain how much this band and that particular album has helped me lately. I really like a lot of music, but it only happens once in a while that I feel "moved." And I feel as moved as one of them peddlers I had to learn so much about in my American Jewish History class.