Where's Waldo?

Where's Waldo?

For me.....   For me, Facebook was just becoming too addictive without the high.  Sure I love my friends, my family and sharing slices of pie and life.  But, really, it was becoming all about angry politics.  For me.  And since I'm so (not!) good with boundaries, I decided in mid-December 2019 to first try just saying no to politics.  That worked (sort of) for a few weeks, but really it only convinced me that I needed a massive (massive) time out.

And so on January 2nd I decided to deactivate my Facebook account "for the time being."  It actually took me several tries, for first I had to realize how insidiously looped together Facebook properties are.  Log onto Pinterest?  Boom, you are active again on Facebook (yes, yes, I use Pinterest for my secret apartment floorplan fetish).  Log onto Instagram?  Boom Boom Boom, back again on Facebook.  (I was really a one social media guy - no twitter, no instagram -- but I needed to do something with all that photography.).

Now I'm on Instagram infrequently and enjoying the passive, unengaged nature of it all.  And I'm wondering why I have this fancy iPhone camera and what I will do now that I'm not creating a plog of my life's timeline anymore.

And I have (much of) my life back.

I'm studying Spanish every day.  I'm reading books.  I spend a good 20 minutes a day with the news from reputable journalistic sources like NYT, WaPo and, well, ok, the Chronicle.  Hey, I do live in SF and even though I PREFER the LATimes I can only support so much quality journalism...

And I am calmer.  Oh, I am oh so much calmer.  I care so much less than I did about the Moron in Chief (ok, ok, the utter crook/scam artist, destroyer of our nation).  But, hey, we asked for it, didn't we.  And we still are asking for it.  Slowly the wheel grinds forward, and these our wheezing gasps of the American Heyday.

Oh so much calmer.

I am contemplating a quarterly blog and maybe throwing the link on Facebook.  Or maybe not.  Maybe just a quarterly blog.   Writing would be good for me -- I don't write enough for pleasure, only for work.  I would like to practice the arts more: Painting and writing.  Getting back to the 17 year old me.  Only a little wiser, a little worn, and oh - so much calmer.

late february 2020