Lately, I've been seeing posts on my friends blogs apologizing for being "gone so long". Friends that have been "missing" for quite a while. They've been off socializing with others, using other networks, and they've left me and all their other faithful blog friends behind. (kidding ya'll!)
I tried FB. But after finding myself in a sticky situation, had to cancel my account. Although I found that it consumed quite a bit of time, only to accomplish so very little. I just don't see the value of it like I see the value in maintaining a blog.
My blog is a journal of sorts. An online scrapbook. I write about mundane things in life, I write about my experiences living in another culture, I post pictures for all of our friends and family Stateside that are missing out seeing my kids grow up. This journal of mine will be something my kids will have one day. Something to share with my Grand kids. Where my Grand kids will learn more about the childhood of their parents....now there's value to that. What I wouldn't give to know more about the everyday life of my mom when she was 10.
So with all that said......here's the latest from my Guest Blogger, Michael Andrzejewski
Turn It Off
Do you really want to know what I'm doing at this very moment? What about ten minutes from now when I am doing something both terribly mundane and wildly unrelated to you. Maybe I'm mulling over the Biblical and/or grammatical difference between good and perfect with my feet on my desk, while staring across corn fields and vineyards.
Perhaps I'm about to stop and help my wife unload groceries? Happy? Does that get you through the day? I'm sorry. Not even my own mother has an interest in that sort of vapidity.
Twitter? Nope. Facebook? Forget it. LinkedIn? More like FedUp.
All of these Social Networking Sites are driving me insane.
I've tried to connect. Sincerely, I've tried to want to get back in touch, but my life is different now. I'm all grown up and my social circle is already more than I can adequately manage.
On top of deadlines, appointments, meetings, services, and classes; I care nothing about the pressure of feeling like I've got to send what amounts to an electronic Christmas card four times a day to Johnny who played right field with me in little league.
If you would like to talk, call me. If you don't have the time, email me. I'll do my best to call or write you back before you forget what you wanted in the first place.
Think with me for just a moment. Sir, do you really think that given your recent marital problems it is profitable for your wife to accept an invitation to look at pictures of her recently divorced ex-boyfriend on the beach in Maui? I don't.
Neither do I want that creepy, obsessive “old friend” cyber stalking my wife under the guise of “needing someone to talk to through this difficult time” in his life.
Without being downright rude, I have absolutely no interest in the fact that two days ago Sean Sebastian was packing for a business trip to Las Vegas. Who's Sean Sebastian? I barely remember. We were classmates in college and haven't spoken in over twelve years. I'm glad he wants to keep in touch, although methinks there's a lot more to it than just keeping in touch. It's like some sort of petty race to procure the most contacts or writings on one's wall.
In today's society of constant – no longer instant gratification, we have created a culture of busyness without productivity. We do things but never accomplish very much. We spend countless hours building empty relationships while neglecting the important ones.
How about doing something novel. Bold. Start a trend. Be electronically anti-social.
Disconnect. Right now. Turn off the computer and go read a book to your daughter. Take a walk with that almost estranged wife. Quit trying to connect with those that really don't matter and simply connect with those that should matter. Have a catch with your teenage son, just like in Field of Dreams.
Remember, you didn't like all of those people that you're trying to reach out and touch when you talked to them every day or you would have kept in touch with them all along. What makes you think you are going to like them now?
If saggy pants fall in public and there's no common sense to pick them up, does society even notice?
Moreover, if underwear were intended to be seen, wouldn't we call it outerwear?
Is this particularly disgusting and undeniably perplexing fashion trend just a matter of a simple generational divide? Twenty years from now will these same quasi-flashers be busting a three piece sag? I have my doubts.
It is more probable that we could trace the root of this pandemic of baggy britches to those who first neglected the use of the belt – the parents. Somewhere along the line, Mom and Dad replaced the type of familial cowboy diplomacy that was used for so long for a more positive, Obama style, if-I-could-just-talk-to-them method of parenting. My rather unpopular stance is that young people always need a belt, if not one to hold up their shorts, then certainly to hold up their behavior. In most families corporal punishment has gone the way of the dodo bird, and following closely behind can be seen respect for authority. I'll not be the first, nor should I be the last to say it, but kids have plenty of friends. What they really need are parents. They really need parents who love them enough to keep them in line.
I had a strict disciplinarian as a father. I didn't always like it then, but I am very thankful now. He demanded the kind of reverence that led me as a young man to ask his permission about getting a tattoo. He asked why and where. I responded with a ridiculous, “Because I really want a tattoo...” and pointed to my left shoulder. Typical.
He replied by reassuring me that I would regret it one day, telling me that he wasn't paying for it, and thanking me for respecting him enough to talk to him first. For the record, the day of regret came rather too soon than I ever anticipated.
From a very early age I was taught by all adults to say yes sir or ma'am and no sir or ma'am. If I neglected to do so in the presence of my father, I was sure to be picking myself up off the ground. It was a given.
In that day, not very long ago, there were many more societal “givens” than there are today. While there were expectations, they were neither unreasonable nor oppressive. Instead, they were normal, sensical, and purposeful. Eerily similar to belts, these expectations helped both father and son. These expectations of honesty, integrity, and courtesy warded off shame and public humiliation, simultaneously guarding society from being subjected to outward moral deviation.
When it turned from being encouraged to almost criminal to correct children alongside the Hamburger Helper, as barometric pressure drops so did the level of respect for one's elders. In no certain order, Junior's grades slipped, then went his pants, and now civility itself slides further and further south. Sadly, because we have criminalized the belt, all we have to look forward to seeing is civilization's dirty boxer shorts.
-Michael Andrzejewski
