Once again modern communications have failed me with a vengeance. I tried in vain to communicate with my daughter using e-mail, texting and voice mail asking her if she wanted to have a barbecue at our house the 4th of July. After several attempts with no reply, I just assumed she was mad at her old dad about something…so I sent her a terse e-mail concerning her silence the morning of the fourth.
This morning, July 5, 2013, I received an even terser message about my assumption and how that is how people’s feelings get hurt. I was so glad to hear from her knowing she was OK, albeit pissed at me, I immediately replied to her e-mail with an apology for being senile.
What makes this whole episode interesting is that my daughter lives at the end of our block. Yes, folks…you heard me right – we pass her house most days while walking the dogs and she walks to our house occasionally. Her house is so close that even the summer desert heat does not interfere with the transport of ideas and/or goodies she sometimes bakes for us.
This blog begs the bigger story to be told. How in the hell did we get to the place where communication is solely placed in the techno world? Even at 70, I have technology grafted and hanging from every orifice and if just one goes down, I panic. God forbid I should go to a door and knock three times. It’s so mundane….
I’m just saying,