Going analog-ish

Preface

I wrote a long post about going analog-ish on Saturday. I thought I'd return to it on Sunday for revisions. But then I heard the news coming out of Minneapolis. It didn't feel appropriate to blabber on about my adventures on social media, so I'm cutting up my earlier draft and refocusing in a way that I initially intended when thinking about this post. I'll put that earlier draft in my archive. It was important for me to get out of my head and onto the page. I'm thinking about a similar post related to libraries to fulfill the "some library" promise of this blog. Give me a second.

TL;DR

I may very well be full of shit.

How we got here

Like most humans, I embraced digital technology when it became mainstream in the 90's. Once my dad bought a Packard Bell computer, I had to try AOL. It opened a new world to me and I didn't look back. Cell phones were a thing, but I didn't get one until I started grad school in 1999 and driving to classes in other cities became a thing, so I needed something for emergencies only. I still had a landline, which was my primary phone, even when I moved to another state for my first post-grad school job in 2004. I wasn't even texting at that point until I fell into a new friends group in 2005. At that point, I also still had dialup internet at home, but I did participate in social media-like platforms before it was regularly called social media. How do you think I found my friends group? Side note: We moved from a local music and arts message board to LiveJournal, then Facebook, tried Google Wave (IKR?) and Google Buzz before landing on Google+ (we are the reason Google kept it around so long), then a platform not to be named. It's our secret clubhouse, after all. During this time, society moved further from the physical to the digital. I stopped buying CDs around 2010, ripped my collection to my computer, and gave them all away because why bother selling? Then I stopped buying DVDs, not that I was a huge collector, though I did not give this collection away. I still have all six seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I distinctly remember telling my sister she was wasting her money buying DVDs because we would soon all have access to our favorite movies and TV shows on a server in our homes or something like that. I did continue to hold onto my landline because my security alarm system used phone lines, but I finally let it go in 2017. I even had a 1970s era rotary phone hooked up to a phone jack in my bedroom. I liked the aesthetics. It didn't ring out, but it was fully functional.

Where we are now

So, here we are in 2026, with tiny computers and communication devices in our pocket or purse. We have the ability to take music, movies, information, and people with us everywhere we go and we can contribute to public discourse as we walk down the street. Many good things happened as a result of the digital revolution. But there has also been a cost that is now starting to sink in for many people, myself included, with 2026 being declared the year that we all go analog. What have we realized? Simply put, we've lost touch with what's real.

As I mentioned, I met my friends group online. The various platforms where we shared the good, the bad, the inane, were more supplemental to us, for the most part. We saw each other IRL often. These platforms were for in between times. Eventually, people started getting married, having kids, and outgrowing our active social lives, to be expected. But, for the most part, we stayed connected online. With each new platform move, people also dropped out. Our posting frequency and engagement has noticeably decreased. Maybe the folks that dropped out and those who stayed all started to feel the social media fatigue that is so prevalent today. It seems like the days of sharing ones life in detail, and not just the good stuff, has decreased. Those of us that stayed do soldier on in the spirit of yesteryear, but fatigue is evident at times.

Over the entire digital landscape, we have become so accustomed to the quickness and immediacy of social media, texting, and doom scrolling that we've been programmed to not be patient. A post may go overlooked or garner some hot takes, a like or emoji, but really, what are you actually thinking or feeling about what I posted? We chase that dopamine hit that the tech broligarchs have purposely engineered to keep us hooked to generate revenue for advertisers, which means more money in their pockets. On to the next hit. We all do this, myself included, though I did delete my Facebook account last year. Too much noise and most posts, if you can even see your friends' posts, are predominantly shared information and surface level news. I'm not disparaging anyone. We've all been conditioned and are exhausted.

Another thing I've noticed over the years is that I started to isolate and I stopped seeking out the real world activities that I had always enjoyed. Granted, there were other things in play that very much influenced my behavior and the beginning of the COVID era (it's not over) played a big part, so when you aren't working you want to isolate at home and your contact with the outside world and other people is a digital representation. It's a cold and sterile world if you think about it and I believe many people start treating these representations in kind. Scrolling past, leaving someone on Read, ghosting ... we've lost our tangibility with the world ... we've lost our softness. It's not a person receiving those (lack of) responses, it's a digital avatar.

Where we need to go

The one thing we can't get if we become an island in our home or connect with the world predominantly through digital means is being in touch with our authentic, human selves and recognizing that in others. You can't get that through social media or even texting. Phone calls and video chats are helpful because we can hear and see the other person and those subtle queues are more apparent, but physical presence with other people and even places is essential for our soul to feel full. Digital technology is not going away and I'm not advocating for it to stop. It can be a supplementary tool to make plans or share important information in between seeing each other. And you don't have to fill your free hours with other people or even see everyone all the time. Life does get busy, especially if you have kids or relatives and friends that you care for. And don't get me started on the 40 hour work week, thanks capitalism. But having a regular date that meets everyone's needs should be a priority. In early 2025, I decided to make regular connections with my longtime, close friends, most who do not live near me, by talking on the phone or video chatting on a regular basis. I talk with my oldest friend every 2-3 weeks and we have five hour chats. How we find five hours worth of things to say at such frequency, I'll never know. We are also going to make it a point to see each other twice a year, visiting each others' cities or venturing out to other places and maybe visit other old friends. With another friend, I harass him every 2-3 months for a 45 minute to an hour phone call. I saw him 2016ish for a few hours in Vegas when we both happened to be there at the same time, but before that was 2008 when he trekked down from the city for a short stay in Philadelphia after my conference ended. 2027, I'm coming to get you, NYC. 2026 is already booked. A couple other friends I've met through library-related spaces, I exchange emails with maybe twice a year, with a video chat once a year-ish. My in-town bestie, maybe once a month? For the IRL stuff, I do a lot of things alone, but I have started inviting friends to different things I think they may be interested in, like a movie, a short trip to see a bird migration, or shopping at Costco. I'm filling my calendar with various events around town and I even joined a club at work. I also made it a goal, not covered in my previous post, to send my dear, close friends a card or postcard each month in 2026 and I expect no reciprocation. Who doesn't like to get mail? Dropped January's batch in the mail yesterday!

Ok, I've blabbered on a bit about social media and such, but not as much as my earlier draft, so I'm turning to things and places. Tangible media ... I'm not quite sure how to explain my shift back to it. All of my music, CDs collected since the early 90s, are now on my laptop. I've made playlists and added them to my iPhone, like, forever ago. But listening from my phone got old and I found myself listening to the radio of all things, I stopped paying attention to new music in the late 90s because everything sounded so derivative, so I had idea who anyone was. I did discover Olivia Rodrigo and Sza, which I'm glad about. Never a Swifty, I won't go there as I wind up upsetting people. Last summer I got it in my head that I needed to buy CDs again. Not new stuff, but my old favorites. True, they are on my laptop, but the feel of a jewel case and sliding a disc into the only CD player I have, in my car ... nothing like it. It feels real. I'm not sure how else to explain it. Similar phenomenon with DVDs. Too many streaming options and your favorite movie is on the one you don't subscribe to or it left the service you do have last month. You could buy a digital copy, but do you really own it? And besides, you can only view the case artwork (think Criterion Collection) from your TV. And the extras! After I re-watch the Whit Stillman trilogy, I'm going back to listen to the commentary track! But, watching movies at home is something I struggle with. Maybe the social media programming has given me a short attention span, at least when I'm home. I love going to the cinema. I joined our local non-profit independent theatre last year (discounted tickets!) and have been frequenting it a lot. Sitting in a comfy chair, as the darkness surrounds you, escaping into another world, sometimes giving gut punches (my favorite), and with like minded people is bliss. I'm not really paying attention to what's playing at the other theatres. This weekend, I'll finally see No Other Choice and in 35 mm, which I'm not sure what that means. I mentioned that I've been filling my calendar up. There are a few events I wind up not going to, but that's ok. Nestling into your burrow, like the rabbits and groundhogs in the burrow located in the back part of my property that I'll never fill in, is good for the soul sometimes. So is visiting a record store to see if they finally have that Luna CD I've been looking for but they never seem to have. I guess that's what happens when your media is extinct and you have to buy used. Then there is strolling through the latest exhibit at the local art museum or maybe your favorite gallery and buying tickets to a play about RBG or a viewing of The Princess Bride hosted by Westley himself! The shared experience gives me a sense of belonging. And events I don't have to buy a ticket to, sitting with a friend on a Saturday morning to catch up as her kids get rambunctious and standard poodle (doodle?) sits on the back of the couch like a cat. I need to set that up again.

Ok, I'm done

What does this have to do with Minneapolis? Isn't it obvious? Horrific times are bringing people together. They are working together as a community. That is beautiful and heartening to know that folks will pull together in rough times. But what about when chaos isn't happening up the street from you? You might be having horrific times on a personal level, but it's not required. Wouldn't some community be beneficial to offer you comfort, a laugh, or sense of belonging? Opening up to someone else off of the slot machine craziness of social media or even text messaging is therapeutic. And overshare! I've been doing that a lot lately and I've found others appreciate the validation or insight that I offer, at least I like to think that. Maybe you are already being analog-ish, but are you soaking it in? That's important. We aren't on this planet very long, feel the good time.

Now pardon me while I figure out the passcodes to my now locked spare devices that are taking forever to charge. I left my phone at work. That's probably a good thing.