Honestly! You take a little vacation from the internet, and people start writing your obituary. The truth is, I decided that, as a diva of a certain age, it was time to step away from Social Media Society and explore the mythical "World Outside." Though my dance card was always full while I was attending the grand galas on Twitter/X, Instagram, and Threads, I found something was missing in my life. The medical community refers to it as "fresh air." So, as I inhale, let me regale you with wondrous tales of Life Beyond the Valley of the Smart Phones.
Until we meet again, my love. |
People living the fresh air life talk about the strangest things. I was seated at our local diner, trying to figure out how to order food without using DoorDash, when I found myself listening in on the conversations of the people around me. Without access to my various social media accounts, I was starved for real-time updates of the latest news. I was hoping to learn if Travis had popped the question, which celebrity had been cancelled, and whether JLo was engaged, again. Instead, I overheard discussions about the cost of a new dishwasher, an eldest daughter's new job in Tempe, and vacation plans in Des Moines. Not a single mention of Princess Kate's health, Brad Pitt's potential future child, or all the people now claiming they never knew P. Diddy. How am I supposed to know when the Coastal Grandmother Fashion trend ends if the people around me won’t discuss it? It all seems terribly unhealthy to me.
Fresh Airers have this thing called Game Night. This is not to be confused with playing Wordle, Connections, Words With Friends, Candy Crush, or Best Fiends. I learned this the hard way when I joined some pals for an evening of playing games on boards. When I was losing badly, I pulled out my wallet and tossed $2.99 on the table. "What's that for?" asked my clueless friend. "I want to buy gold coins for extra turns and special weapons." "Diva, it doesn't work that way!" she responded, "You have to win by playing to the end while using strategy and quick-thinking!" Oh, I used quick-thinking, all right. I flipped the table and shouted, "Consider that my restart button!" Obviously, fresh air and a life without a smart phone is doing wonders for my disposition.
The fresher the air, the odder the behavior. "Diva, let's go for a bike ride," my anti-Smart-phone friends begged. Excellent! I dressed in chic biking shorts, a tank top, and pulled my hair atop my head in the requisite messy bun. When my friends arrived with old-timey bicycles, the kind with chains and tires that spin, I balked. "No one rides those, anymore! I, personally, only ride a Pelaton while enjoying the virtual coaching of a hot Swedish guy half my age." After being encouraged guilted into "giving it a whirl," crashed into the nearest tree. Apparently, the difference between virtual and fresh-air biking is you need to remember to use brakes with the latter.
Another strange habit of people who limit their screen time for the fresh-air advantage is they go a-visiting. It's a quaint tradition that was still quite the trend as recently as 1998! "Diva. Are you going to be home this evening? We were thinking of stopping by," a Fresh Airer asked of me. "Coming over? To my home? Why....why... no one has entered this domicile since I joined Twitter in 2009." Wanting to fully embrace the Fresh Air life, I agreed to accept guests, and set about tidying my house. Unfortunately, I no longer had access to the 17 billion cleaning videos on Tik Tok. In the end, I decided to simply toss buckets of bleach atop every surface, then wipe it down with Windex. By the time my guests arrived, I was hallucinating. If only I had access to my phone so I could google, "Is it safe to combine ammonia and bleach?"
I think we can all agree that the most difficult thing about going fresh-air is the inability to snap photos of life as it passes us by. One evening, my phone-free friends and I were enjoying a stunning sunset while chatting and listening to jazz. "Is anyone recording this??" I bellowed frantically to the group, "Because if it's not on Instagram, it didn't happen!" They stared me at me with pity for a moment, then returned to their conversation. Frustrated, I lay down in the cool grass and watched the sinking sun turn the trees to russet. As I listened to the murmurs and laughter of my friends, and watched the fireflies send flirtations to one another via those tiny lanterns on their rear ends, I had a revelation.
Maybe we are meant to talk to people, face-to-face, about things that might not matter to the rest of the world but are important to us. Maybe games were designed to be a social event (well, except Solitaire because of the name and all.) Maybe activities like running and biking are meant to be performed outdoors (except for mall-walking, a legitimate sport for divas). And, maybe, just maybe, we are meant to visit one another in person now and then, rather than just texting and tweeting.
Does this mean we should flush our cell phones down the toilet? God, no! Think of the plumbing bill! It does mean we can set them aside for awhile and enjoy the life that's going on around us. Meanwhile, it's good to be back. But, I still need to know. Did Travis pop the question??
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