A blog for those who remember good customer service, toast racks and typewriters
Friday, August 1, 2014
As time goes on I find my interest in what the day's media outlets have to offer fails to capture my attention. By 7pm on a weeknight I've had my television fill of disguised advertisements, who cares items and go get a life self interest stories enough to hit the red button with great relief. The twitter universe is unknown to me because I don't know how to use it. I don't instagram, pound or ounce of anything and I'm barely linked into myself let alone an unmet network of faces who want to sell me something. The thought of ignoring technology seems almost shameful but I'm pressing on regardless. The latest apps hold no interest with claims to organise my life in such a way that only a pencil and a piece of paper could do better. I will continue to get joy in defying being switched on and remain blissfully tuned out. Sometimes a little rebellion goes a long way. As noticed on my walk yesterday with Number One Son through our local streets where we update ourselves in progress of neighbourhood home renovations, download some fresh air and connect into our local birdlife community. I see the house on the corner that used to feed the visiting Rosellas and Galas with a tray of seed from the branch of tree has now removed it. New local laws about feeding wild life has been enforced by this local suburban council to cease the trampling of wildebeest on local hydrangeas - or something, but sometimes defiance wins out. With the house on the corner now having a single much pecked at apple skewered by a wire and now hanging from the branch, I am pleased that rebellion has won out, through a weapon of mass production - the granny smith.