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Think
I ship books almost every day now. This is a good sign,
since I am trying to be a publisher. But it means I have to make a daily
trip to the local Post Office and often must stand in line for up to
fifteen or twenty minutes. Not a long time, really, if speaking in relative
earth-time continuum terms. It’s not a problem for me because
I have always been able to amuse myself while waiting. I learned the
art of self-entertainment long ago. I ponder on things, make mental
to-do lists, and plot my errands to maximize my time and gasoline use.
Sometimes I write columns in my head. Sometimes I bring a book, if I
anticipate the wait to be more than half an hour. When I was a designer,
I used to keep a small sketchbook in my purse to whip out. Amazing what
you can accomplish in just a few stray minutes. Apparently I’m
unique in this way because nearly every place I go, including the Post
Office, management thinks that I and other patrons cannot and should
not be left to our own thoughts and must therefore be entertained.
Televisions blare from the corners in auto repair waiting
rooms, car wash shops, and even in my nail salon where I’d really
prefer to be completely relaxed by quietude. Thus, the TV invades the
space with mind-numbing blather. The odds of me being interested in
the channel selected are slim to zero so this means I am not only NOT
entertained/appeased/calmed/held at bay, I am actually annoyed and leave
the facility a little more tense than I arrived.
One day, after the boom-box was introduced to the waiting
area of the Post Office, I stood shifting from one foot to the next,
focused on breathing in and out, trying to ignore that not only was
the oldie-goldie music too loud, it was just a hair off the station
which made it raspy and was shredding my last nerve to the snapping
point. When I, at last, mercifully was able to step up to the counter,
the clerk asked how she could help me. I replied, loud enough for the
rest of the waiting group to hear me, “Well, you can help me drop-kick
that boom box out into the parking lot, for starters!” She laughed
and said that it wasn’t her fault. I was vaguely disappointed
that no one spoke up to agree with me.
Odd man out, once again; story of my life.
And the boom box, which obviously was placed there to
keep the waiting crowd lulled and dulled, and hopefully patient, cranks
on in the Buford Post Office today. I am a lonely voice of one. But
even so, that doesn’t make me wrong. There is something serious
and sinister going on here and it seems to be connected to the process
of dumbing us down so we can no longer think for ourselves. Some folks
believe there is a concerted conspiracy a foot. I don’t know about
that. As a race, humanity, without encouragement, has a fairly consistent
track record for choosing the path of least resistance.
We are more like sheep than sheep. One thing is for sure,
we definitely prefer not to be left alone with our own thoughts. Just
pump in the same old stuff in a loop and keep us occupied so that, God
forbid, we don’t have to experience boredom (which is a great
motivator) or allow our brains to make new neuron paths sparked by innovative
thought. That’d be too much like work.
The next time you encounter a teenager or young adult
who cannot add or converse intelligibly don’t blame the school
system blame her/his iPod. Because even a thousand songs played over
and over is still old news. And as long as the loop is ongoing, there
is no room for anything new to blossom and take flight.
We are the sum total of how much we are willing to learn.
If we are constantly plugged into canned repetitious input, and that
which we already know, how is it possible to grow? Lack of growth results
in stunted development. Dumbing down is a real threat to successful
living, whether you are smart enough to recognize it or not.
Wise up - get quiet - think.
