Addictions

Addictions appear in many shapes and sizes. They may come in a variety of guises. Some are disguised as hobbies or minor distractions. But anything that creeps into a life and eats up the precious time a person has left on earth can be labeled an addiction. Television, the internet, Facebook, on line games, pornography, drugs, alcohol, even food can supplant the necessary temperance in a person’s life.

Many people were wondering why I stayed away from Facebook without responding in my usual warped sense of humor to Facebook postings. It was because another friend issued a challenge to me. He suggested that I avoid the venue of Facebook for a day. It was for an entirely different reason than an addiction, but none-the-less, I accepted.

Because I uncoupled myself from the computer, I was able to go to the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society and put in 4 hours of sorting and storing maps, photos, and newspaper articles. I wasn’t able to actually review the many interesting things that passed before my eyes, but I was surprised at the variety and depth of the small number of things that I processed.

War photos by Jack Pletcher, deeds, proclamations, interesting articles on local crimes, local heroes, school pictures, and a steady progression of maps showing the expanding towns and the dividing of the land into townships over the centuries, all passed through my hands.

As a child, I loved to snoop into the drawers of the old, dark oak bureau in my grandmother Miner’s dining room. The drawers were filled with hair swatches, pencils, fountain pens, hair pins, small and amusing things that were nearly worthless, but seemed remarkable in my small fingers. I was also intrigued with the crystal prisms hanging from a pair of lamps sitting on the bureau.

A similar feeling of nostalgia poured over me as I delved into the boxes of unknown treasures. My curiosity returned seeing these reminders of the history of yesteryear. It was a wonderful reemergence of youthful feelings.

All of this was said to share that I felt much freer from the addicting quality of Facebook. It was a cleansing of sort; a purging of the soul. Perhaps I can now limit the time I spend on line and avail myself to the task of writing more. I need to allow my creativeness to be freed. My next challenge is to limit the wasting of time watching the boob-tub and its continual attempt to dumb down the American public.