Sometime on Thursday, July 30, my watch stopped dead. It was a sign.
I was leaving for a West Coast vacation the following day, and someone was telling me that time would be irrelevant for the next 2 weeks.
Instead of rushing to buy a new battery, I opted to leave my watch and the laptop at home. I also vowed not to go online for 2 weeks, and swore off newspapers, radio broadcasts and television, too. It would be my first long disconnect from things digital since I started this social-media experiment 3 years ago. And it felt right.
OK, I really wanted to tweet my followers a few times, but only to gloat about my situation.
- Sipping Cabernet on Monterey Bay with the love of my life.
- Watching a 6 x 6 bull elk grazing at Gold Bluffs Beach.
- Camping among the redwoods at Elk Prairie.
But that would have been cruel, since most of you were slaving away at your desks, working on a case of carpel tunnel. Besides, I don’t care what you’re doing on vacation. Why should I subject you to mine?
My anxious withdrawal from the digital world never happened. And by the time I hit SFO, I had stepped into 2006, a time before Web 2.0 took over my life. I spent 24 hours a day reconnecting with my bride, and also with the head of my religion, a lady named Mother Nature.
We strolled the redwood groves, sampled the wines in Napa and Sonoma, cycled along Monterey Bay and explored the ruins of Jack London’s dream house in Glen Ellen.
I never felt more connected.
So the next time you’re feeling a little too wired, let me recommend heading for the beach at Mendocino, getting silly drunk and dancing up a storm around a beach fire. No one cares if you get silly in California. It’s sort of expected.