I am transcribing my great-great grandmother’s journal, currently. Recently, the theatre just came into town. She saw three different plays before they left. And between the plays, she went to some dances. She visits other people. People come and visit her. And it feels like a whole different world than mine.
Granted, she is 17, and when I was 17, I hung out at friend’s houses, went to movies, and went to a few dances, though they were quite pathetic, really. Maybe she was more social than I was.
But then she says:
Theatre company left Thursday. Since then we have been struggling with the blues as we always do when any one leaves the town.
I always have TV available. I always have internet and movies and social media right next to me. I have continual choices. And I can make those choices alone, sitting on my computer.
My great-great grandmother lived a small town, and she took what she could get. She had to do it with other people as well, because other people was all she had. There was no digital presence to take their place.
We live in a much more lonely world right now because nothing needs to be physically present anymore–it’s all digital.
It’s sort of sad, really. I wish for the times when we visited and wrote letters instead of emailed and chatted online. I wish I could go to a real live theatre instead of turning on the next streaming video.
But the thing is: I can be old-fashioned still. Real thing still exist and I can seek them out in the midst of all the digital.