Yesterday I read this op-ed by Sherry Turkle about how we can no longer simply think or sense or experience or converse without interrupting ourselves to make a record with a device: we miss the experience in the process of “capturing” it, documenting it.
I don’t really think this is so different from what we’ve always done, either mentally in the form of inner chatter (what meditators try to stop), or externally by keeping journals or sketchbooks. Let’s just say our acquisitiveness has become more visible; in our attempts to grasp elusive experience and compel the moment to seem more real, less dreamlike, we’ve invented a newer, faster, shinier mousetrap. “Better,” well, that can be debated.
In response or no, I left my iPhone behind last night (not for the first time) when I came over to my parents’ house for dinner. The camera is one of the aspects of the gadget I have the least-mixed feelings about. It has enabled me to take some wonderful pictures, and I’m not even a photographer. But I do sometimes get busier capturing the sunset than experiencing it.
After dinner my parents sat down in front of the PBS NewsHour, aptly dubbed “The Snooze” because it’s their excuse for a post-prandial nap. Just as the show rolled into a long feature on whether brain-training videogames can keep you sharp as you age, my mom (90) slumped forward over her baby-blanket knitting (3 more great-grandchildren coming in March!!), and my dad (almost 96) had his head thrown back with his mouth open. The coincidence of sound and scene positively cried out for documentation. (My parents still have their wits in both senses, so I can confidently say that they would find it funnier than we do.)
But I didn’t have my phone. So I decided to do something quaint: try to draw them. (I’m even less of an artist than a photographer.) They did not stir as I tiptoed out of the room and back in with paper and pencil. Long story short, I couldn’t begin to get their faces—it was severely humbling even to try—but I didn’t do too badly with their hands.
Fred and Ginger getting ready to bump heads in “The Carioca” in Flying Down To Rio (1933) Released almost 80 years ago this month….
So find eight pianos in a circle and a bunch of extras (some with fruit on their heads), and get out there and try it yourself!
Ok, I hate to be Althousian, but if you do any Christmas Shopping through Amazon, I personally request that you please go to my blog Fluffy Stuffin and make your purchase through my Amazon portal. I finally made $18(!) from a years worth of purchases from various folks. As I am in a huge struggle to merely exist…anything would be greatly appreciated. Your price won’t be worse for using the portal, but I get a small slice. Thank you again, and I apologize for the pleading.