The article is fascinating. Before the internet, I met my wife via a singles tabloid offered locally in the valley.
I'm retired now, living some 50 miles from most of my friends, and despite my digital career and daily activity when sitting on the easy chair (like right now) I pick up the phone while coffee is brewing, and see zero red dots on the home screen.
Paradise to some, I'm kind of used to it now. Seniors seem to be litter on the highways of life.
I keep busy with hobbies, chiefly piano, because one can always get better, it's satisfying (I am "wired" for music, thank you, neurons) and there's never an "I've accomplished all I can" moment. Photography has also been with me a shorter time, "only" some 55 years, and it truly is a way of seeing, being engaged with the environment, and being constantly surprised by it.
Some day, I will share. I should live so long, but I am in daily contact with my scattered family. Even if it's mostly one-way and admittedly ADHD/TLDR in the other end.
People fail to return emails and messages, use FB Messenger, which I despise, refuse to install Signal, miss discussions on zoom.
But looking at that home screen, devoid of red dots, options are open.
First order of business is setting the iPad on top of the Clavinova, because as long as I can find the reading glasses, music is a positive-definite activity.
Every day that the complex well system is working is a "no-panic" day. Had one the other day. I loaded up the portable tool kit, ready to check breakers, load limiter boxes and fuses, but there was pressure just upstream of a big valve. I popped open its cover, flipped it off and on, and pressure returned to the home, more than the day before. Why? Some obstruction?
Life is mostly low-tech, "dumb as a bag of hammers" stuff. Each morning, digital is a choice. This morning, I dabble.
