Web 2 Point Oh : What’s the Price of Progress?

Do It YourselfI’m not asking you to throw away your email address… abandon your Twitter, your Facebook, your Linked In… jettison your digital cameras, mp3 players, bluetooth accessories, smart phones or… god forbid, your internet connection… I know I won’t be… but I am asking you to consider the following random thoughts that have been running through my brainosphere of late…

For those of you who have at least reached your 30th birthday… do you remember postal mail? Film cameras? Cassette walkmans? Pay phones? That’s right, in retrospect they were cumbersome, slow-moving pains in the butt… but how that translated to everyday life was that we were much less likely to have them with us everywhere we went so as to perpetually be able to document and share with the masses everything we were experiencing.

Good or bad? Probably a little of both… but what’s on my mind is what I’ve always thought of as recall memory. You know how a certain smell, or song or place will always remind you of a happy memory or experience long since passed? I don’t know about you… but I enjoy the hell out of that particular symptom of the human condition.

This phenomena happens to me all the time… and I attribute it to a life well lived… which is sort of the gist… I was lucky enough to be born in a time that permitted me to live my life as opposed to constantly feeling an obligation to archive, document and share it. How many of those recall memories would I now be without if instead of living those experiences… I was busy photographing them, tweeting them, posting them to my wall on Facebook or even worse yet… I was on the phone at the time…

Just some food for thought… at best I’m conflicted on the subject because all these technological marvels are very much a part of my everyday life here in 2009… but the artist within me… the essence that’s perpetually in search of a muse… would suggest a modicum of moderation… stay aware of what you may be missing at any given moment of your day… and sometimes, literally,┬ástop and smell the roses.

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