"Well. I've been working on the blog. Did you know I have a blog?"
"Yes. We know about the blog. But your father and I don't read blogs. Maybe we're just too old. I don't know. But we just don't like that kind of thing. We tried to read it. But we just aren't interested in blogs."
"I thought maybe you just didn't know how to click on the link."
"Of course I know how to do that. It's just all these people with their blogs and cellphones and youtubes. I'm afraid for this next generation. I really am. Everyone is so distracted these days. No one knows how to concentrate. Like this friend of ours. She decided that she needed to get into youtube, who knows why, to relate to the young people, I guess. And then she started feeling very distracted, and she couldn't concentrate on anything and then she realized it was the youtube. So she stopped watching it. And now she's fine."
"There's a lot of people who have concentrated very hard to make the internet what it is today."
"Yes, I suppose so. But it's scary. It really is."
I tell her that I used to feel the same way. That it scared me to see how consumed my husband could become with a little gadget in his hand. And how I loved reading all the doom and gloom articles in smart magazines about how the internet is making us dumb. But I came to realize that this fear is no different from The Fear. It has nothing to do with the internet, but with me. The internet is nothing more than a communication tool. The Fear is nothing more than a construction of my own imagination.
"You should blog about that." My mom who won't read my blog has ideas about what I should blog about.
"My in-laws were sure you weren't reading it because you were offended. "
"I might have mentioned you a couple of times on the blog."
"You have? Well. Maybe I'll have to take a closer look at that sometime."
I had to get my daughter to swimming lessons. We said goodbye. When I came home three hours later, there was an email from my mother.
Please read my response to your blog piece....a conversation with my mother...and then CALL. (Suddenly, I've developed an affinity with CAPS.) We DEFINITELY need to talk! (and explanation marks too!)
My mom has her methods for getting me to call her, usually not so subtle. This time I called back right away. But she didn't want to talk long. She was too distracted by my blog.
"One question. Is that really what we're like?" she asked.
"Yes," I heard my dad declare. "I haven't even read it yet, and I can tell you. That's exactly what we're like."