CHALLENGES IN THIS DIGIT WORLD WE LIVE IN

Well I knew I would get back to blogging sooner or later, but many things got in my way. It has been seven months since my last post and I have been busy. There are many juicy topics out there −the Islamic State and Bowe Bergdahl are still in the news.  I could have blogged about our celebration on the 23rd of December of Festivus. Then there is the topic of the dwindles, and my mother-in-laws recent passing. But I have posted on death and mortality before so I wanted a new direction.

Yesterday I learned that we generate over 100 billion emails a day. Yes, that is billion with a b and not million with an m. My brother, claims to get a billion of them daily and I get a scant million. So we have a well-accepted (although I will contend otherwise below) form of digital communication. Yes, electromagnetic mail messaging is here. Well, sort of, as in case of our recent local Festivus Celebration when I sent out three emails to our invitees and then had to follow up by phone. Linda and I could not believe that our small home would hold the 52 people who showed up.

Now I hardly ever write a check. We pay bills and do banking on-line and use our American Express and MasterCard credit cards. Then there is Google Wallet, but that is a topic for a later time. 

So emails, texting, and instant messaging have replaced snail mail which these days seem to only contain junk mail from local merchants. My Inbox has become an In-bin. My land line and mobile get a host of Rachel calls, so I often don't even answer the land line.  It is not an issue today, as the line is dead. We had an unusual power outage a few days ago and I suspect also a power surge. So now it is silent. 

Back to the subject of emails. I will tell you a story.  

A CAUTIOUS AND APOCRYPHAL TALE FOR OUR TIME. A STORY ABOUT THE BROTHERS GRIMM AND A GRIM STORY.   

The Grimm family lived in Burlington, Vermont. They raised all boys. The boys like to get together at least once a year. Bruce Grimm decided to have his brothers join him in the family hunting lodge in Montana in a couple of months.  So he decided to send the invitations out, you guessed it, by email.

By sending it out he would have the time and day it was sent on his copy of the message.  He decided to use one of those electronic invitations where you could click on the received email to register whether you could attend or not. Maybe also send a gift, but he knew that was not necessary this time. He just wanted to know who would make it out to the Big Sky Country.

First there was Bob in Phoenix. He was sure he would come to get out of the heat. Well, Bob had Comcast for cable and internet. The company that is often rated in the pits. You know the one which is linked to NBC and Universal and has swallowed Time Warner. Bob never got the email because in a fit of pique he stopped paying his bill. He knew any of his friends or family knew how to reach him in an emergency. 

Bill was in San Francisco in the land of the fruits and nuts (which now has a drought according to Moonbeam so will have little of the first and less of the second.) He did get the email message in his in-bin and recognizing his brother's name and wanting to get somewhere where was a least some water, clicked on yes and assumed it would get back to Bruce. He was in. 

Basil in Chicago, got the email, and decided to wait. After all it wasn't for a couple of months, and he could send the acceptance then. Plans do change. So no email now.

Barry who lived in New York City when he wasn't in Mexico running guns, saw the invite and clicked "NO." He wouldn't give his brother the satisfaction of a visit.  He was e-strange-d from his brother and did not want to attend.

Byron, who hung his hat in Miami was in. He would do anything to get away from those gun-running Cubans.

Bacchus, lived in Boston and was the family alcoholic; he would attend any party where there was booze. But he saw the email and decided not to respond. He would send a letter when he sobered up. And the other Boston denizen, Baker, did not even have the courtesy to reply. Must be the smell of the Sam Adams brewery.

Bailey, just over the line in Keene, New Hampshire, saw the email and just clicked that he wouldn't attend.

Ben, Bruce’s favorite from Columbia, Maryland, played trumpet and guitar and normally would be the entertainment.  But, alas, he had a gig out of town and could not make it back in time.

Brian, from the City of the Angels, didn't even get the email. Guess it was because of a wrong email address.

Ballard- apparently lost the message in his LA in-bin. Billy, another Angelino with a meh attitude, just deleted the whole message.

So Bruce tallied up the damages. Yesses, sort of: Bill, Basil, and Byron, and maybe Bacchus. That was five including him.

No-shows included Bob, Barry, Baily, Ben, Baker, Brian, Ballard, and Billy. Well it certainly was their loss.  Eight, he made a mental note to reevaluate this shindig next year.

 Lessons learned: He should have had each of them send an email to him, WHEN they received his invite, not days or weeks later. He would now have to check his file, long depleted of accurate phone numbers, and sigh, call each of them. He hoped he didn't have to snail mail them also. You just never know with family.

As people say with family outings, “Wait until next year.”