We know we're in the middle of dynamic social change. We know the impact of technology in the last few decades. Our daily lives have changed in so many ways and we credit ourselves with being able to keep up with how things are done. Small but crucial victories.
At some point it all adds up and we find ourselves wondering what happened to things like newspapers, shopping centers, our favorite brands, and even how we get from point A to point B.
We know that the internet we embraced, the one that was supposed to bring us closer together, has unfortunately done the opposite. We are reeling. Trying to find some balance before our lives are ripped open to a vulnerability we can barely comprehend.
It's always an unexpected revelation to return to a place where you previously lived in another state. I often compare it to a lifelike dream. There you are going down familiar streets but the configuration of things has changed. Some streets are now wider, some buildings and businesses gone. There is a vibe to the energy and the sound of the place you once knew. Sometimes a familiar feeling locks in again, sometimes it doesn't.
Walking down the street in Pacific Grove, California last weekend, the cool ocean breeze was filtered through warm sunlight at times. The sunset over the San Francisco Bay flashed nuanced pinks and oranges as if the view were HD TV.
I rode the BART rapid transit system for the first time in years. The once new sparkling version of a light-rail has bumps and bruises now, but it still remarkably transports people up, under or over the Bay with ease. Like most transportation systems, it's riders sit with wired earbuds, hoods over heads, avoiding any conversation or even a direct look, eye-to-eye. The diversity in the Bay Area is and always will be breathtaking. So many languages, cultures, age differences, varieties of humanity in a small space. The appearance of dystopia was further developed this time as many moved through the urban arteries wearing face masks sparked by fear of the new Coronavirus
We return home to the simmering Civil War in our nation's capitol. The President says the state of the union is strong. Half the room sits still, motionless. He extols his virtues but fails to mention the climate that is changing as fast as his opinions. The Speaker rips the President's speech in two to the disgust of many and the delight of many more. We don't wear uniforms...yet. But most of us are walking around with divided colors in our consciousness. He speaks of many things, but uniting the people is not one of them.
At some point it all adds up and we find ourselves wondering what happened to things like newspapers, shopping centers, our favorite brands, and even how we get from point A to point B.
We know that the internet we embraced, the one that was supposed to bring us closer together, has unfortunately done the opposite. We are reeling. Trying to find some balance before our lives are ripped open to a vulnerability we can barely comprehend.
It's always an unexpected revelation to return to a place where you previously lived in another state. I often compare it to a lifelike dream. There you are going down familiar streets but the configuration of things has changed. Some streets are now wider, some buildings and businesses gone. There is a vibe to the energy and the sound of the place you once knew. Sometimes a familiar feeling locks in again, sometimes it doesn't.
Walking down the street in Pacific Grove, California last weekend, the cool ocean breeze was filtered through warm sunlight at times. The sunset over the San Francisco Bay flashed nuanced pinks and oranges as if the view were HD TV.
I rode the BART rapid transit system for the first time in years. The once new sparkling version of a light-rail has bumps and bruises now, but it still remarkably transports people up, under or over the Bay with ease. Like most transportation systems, it's riders sit with wired earbuds, hoods over heads, avoiding any conversation or even a direct look, eye-to-eye. The diversity in the Bay Area is and always will be breathtaking. So many languages, cultures, age differences, varieties of humanity in a small space. The appearance of dystopia was further developed this time as many moved through the urban arteries wearing face masks sparked by fear of the new Coronavirus
We return home to the simmering Civil War in our nation's capitol. The President says the state of the union is strong. Half the room sits still, motionless. He extols his virtues but fails to mention the climate that is changing as fast as his opinions. The Speaker rips the President's speech in two to the disgust of many and the delight of many more. We don't wear uniforms...yet. But most of us are walking around with divided colors in our consciousness. He speaks of many things, but uniting the people is not one of them.
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