However, do I need/want/desire or should I know that Carl dreads going to work today; Blair is not sleeping well; the Swanson's eat too much cereal? (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.) C'mon, where else in living history was one able to access the not-so-vital inner-workings of another's life? Or when was it necessary to share with the world what is a common, everyday truth: all would rather the weekend one day longer; sleep is elusive (I write this at 2:15 am); and if it is in the pantry, refrigerator, or on the counter, a child will eat it. These are well-documented, hard and fast facts. What is compelling us to tell one another about the mundane? What is compelling me to keep reading it?
I walk my poochie three times a day: up the sidewalk, down the sidewalk, and around the block. On these daily, habitual walks, I see two neighbors on a regular basis, but I do not speak more than a hello to them. Everyday, three times a day, I am walking, circling, pounding pavement and no one is outside! Not only that, but there is rarely a chit chat. Of course, it is far too hasty a claim to say people are all logged into facebook checking someone's status or filling in their "What's on your mind?" box. No, that is not my claim. But maybe all these mundane comments would have more of a filter if front porches that were made for sitting is where people sat.
For now, I will keep on with this new electronic craze. Don't be fooled; I have found the down arrow that allows me to "hide" those with the banal, hackneyed, tiresome comments.
