T M I

"Brown never comes after 6 p.m. unless it's Christmas."

"He'll will be here in 10 minutes," eldest son insisted.

"And how do you know that?"

"I tracked it and he's on his way."

Sure enough, ten minutes later the brown truck pulled up and the long-awaited package was delivered.

In my mind, that's just a little too much information. Whatever happened to feeling some suspense about when a package might arrive? Now we can narrow it down to a ten-minute time span? No wonder I feel a bit confused and overwhelmed these days. Information overload.

I enjoy my friends who I see regularly here in town. But I have many more around the world, literally, that I keep in touch with--with far greater frequency than the days before email contact.  And then (skipping My Space for me) along came Facebook. Reconnecting with cousins and old friends, looking at their photos--it can almost be ... too much information.

Don't get me wrong--I love keeping in touch, and I'm known to be better at it than many. It's interesting to ponder, though. Facebook is superficial--like skimming over the water's surface. You learn and see only what people want you to (and, I might add, the "younger" generation exposes way more than the older), so that it can be--well, not really real life.

It's still something I'm figuring out--these new ways of keeping in touch. How long will we keep up such a pace of being connected? Will we ever go back to not wanting to know? Could "ignorance [really be] bliss?"