In an Instant

It’s the INSTANT Information Age. Technology is the automatic guest at any gathering, be it an intimate chat or a rowdy belly-up-to-the -bar discussion. That guest cheats us of the chance to speculate or ponder with knowledge and experiences as we pull info from our gray matter. Instead, the guest, aka Siri or Google, pulls facts out of an infinite invisible warehouse. End of wondering. How many thoughts slip away, never needing to surface again?

Perhaps it is the spaces in conversation, when we scan our brains for stories, solutions and understanding, as we watch the faces and eyes of those with us, that create connections, deep connections that bind us beyond the meanings of the spoken words. After all, it is the space between notes that makes music.

Access to the infinite storehouse of instant info has spoiled this boomer somewhat. Why isn’t everything instant?!

*I want my foot to hit the gas pedal as soon as the light turns green.

*The ten minutes it takes my eggs to boil seems like ten hours sometimes. (Impatient folks tend to exaggerate).

*I want my fast-food fast in the drive-thru, forgetting that increases the likelihood of mistakes, cold meals and complaints.

*Instant replays during baseball games slow the game down sometimes! Get on with the game already!

*My toaster exasperates me. Why do I not have instant toast?

*Texting allows us to get to the point in an instant. “Just the facts, ma’am, just the facts.” (A nod to Dragnet) Does anyone talk on the phone anymore, just ’cause? In days gone by I could sit for hours talking and twisting the phone cord without the hint of a point.

*Instant digital photos take us away from mailboxes and albums. Remember waiting to receive the pictures from the roll of film sent off to be developed?

*Instant oatmeal, microwave popcorn and ready-to-eat meals shorten time with family, all in a hurry to go their separate ways for this and that. Generations before us bonded around the table. There are no instant bonds. That seems an oxymoron.

In an instant a dear soul can leave us. Cherished bonds sharpen the shock of loss at first, but soothe a heart and mind with joyful memories, too.  Another oxymoron, perhaps, but one we embrace.

[BrainyQuote is the source of my quote inserts.]

About Teresa Pearson Lee

Retired after 33 years of teaching English and French (one year in private school in Memphis, TN and the rest in public school in Doniphan, MO. Enjoying new adventures - all those things I put off for lack of time, energy, now I can try them! Pottery, writing, traveling, camping, kayaking, dancing, listening to some of the best live music ever, and making lively new friendships. All christened with an appreciation for great red wine! Created and operated KC's on the Current, then sold it and managed it for new owners. You might still find me at the reservation desk when spring rolls around. Born and raised in St. Louis, MO near The Hill. Though a transplant to Southeast Missouri, still a city gal at the core with a deep love of the natural resources in these Ozark foothills. Currently I am a content coordinator for Poplar Bluff Living Magazine and a columnist/stringer for the local weekly The Prospect News. My rescue Siamese helps with most of the proofreading; he has a great ear. I relish the solitude easily had in the Mark Twain Forest but thoroughly enjoy lively outings for music, wine, conversation close to home or in my beloved hometown. Technology is my greatest challenge but so worth the shared connections. There may be a need for solitude but there is little loneliness. The material in this blog written by Teresa Lee is her property and cannot be used without express written consent to do so.
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