I remind myself each day how blessed I am. As the years tick off and the end approaches, I wonder if this is the last stop? Will I come back somewhere else in time, hopefully the future? I kinda doubt it; this sorta feels like a one-shot deal. But I dare to dream.
A lot has happened in the span of my lifetime. When I was a kid, if you had a phone it was attached to the kitchen wall, and everyone in the neighborhood knew your business. (It was called a party-line, and you had to wait your turn.) You could also listen in. Our neighbors were boring, but I pretended to be Gene Hackman tapping wires and spying on ne’er-do-wells. I’d record their conversations because I could. Now I have a phone I can watch TV on, make a movie on, play cards on… My dad would be blown away. He dated on horseback.
As technology advances, I try to keep a grounded view. I keep a couple acoustic guitars, a harmonica or twelve, and a set of bongos, because YouTube won’t have my favorite songs available if the lights go out. I think we have a manual typewriter in the shed; I should dig it out. But finding a ribbon for it? Note to self: Buy a few spiral notebooks to go with the dime-bag of ink pens Lucy bought me.
OTOH, I can tell you where my bus is with a couple taps of a button. I have 300 or so TV channels to choose from at home, and I could take those channels on the road with me, and watch them on my phone. Thing is, I catch myself chastising myself for staring at my phone when Mother Nature’s beauty presents itself to me. I should be staring out the window, gazing stupidly into space.
But I can do that when the battery on my phone dies.