I hear a lot of hand-wringing about our wireless world, and aside from the squeaky sound you can sometimes get if you wring your hands just right, it’s not terribly productive.  Sure, it’s true, as we connect ever more widely and virtually, we lose touch with our hereness.  Our primary environment is online, so we let our physical environment go to pot.  What can be done about this?

Squeak, squeak.

I don’t have answers to these all-important questions.  I do, however, have two more far less significant questions about the impact of connecting myself to the ether.

First up, passwords.

When passwords first began creeping into my daily life, maybe fifteen years ago, I came up with what I thought would be a good general-use password, a six-letter word I figured I could remember and nobody else could guess.   I used it for a number of years, and it served me well.

Then passwords started getting more complicated – had to come up with a combination of letters and numbers.  Okay, did that.  Moving on.

At some point in the last few years, the password invasion overwhelmed my world.  I needed more of them.  And more, and more.

Now my passwords had to combine numbers, letters, punctuation marks, foreign diacriticals, no repetitions, and couldn’t have anything to do with anyone I had ever known, anyone I had ever met or anyone I had ever been.

In other words, my personal passwords had become something I couldn’t ever be expected to remember.

I’m making an attempt to remember them all, though, even the ones I no longer use.  I figure I’ve got enough of them by now to make a pretty hefty opera libretto.  Who knows?  That could come in handy someday.

But don’t even get me started on screen names.

Okay, that’s mental, now for the physical aspect of my technohabit.

Because I respect other people (or maybe because I’m impossibly shy), my cell phone is on silent-vibrate mode almost all of the time.

Lately, I’ve noticed I’m getting phantom vibrations in the parts of my body that are adjacent to pockets my phone usually occupies.  I’ll feel my phone go off on my left leg, dig into my pocket to see who is calling and discover the pocket empty.

I’m getting very uncomfortable about this.  My body really shouldn’t miss my cell phone so much it has to make up for its absence by giving me skin-buzzes.

Squeak, squeak.

Speaking of bodies doing remarkable things, Concert Dance, Inc. will be bringing their wonderful choreography for my Better Angels of Our Nature to Pennsylvania for the first time tomorrow night.  Read all about it here.  And if you can’t go, watch it on YouTube.


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