3 week chip, and

So here I am, three weeks and no Facebook. Originally the idea was to make it to the end of January. Except one of the things I started thinking when the temptation to look at Facebook happened was to ask myself, what is something useful I could do right now? Sometimes that was to do a house thing. Or take a camera for a walk. Or actually read a book. Anything that involved me getting up from the computer and actually doing something was a good answer. It's worked.

In fact it's worked so well I'm a week past the original deadline and not really missing it. It's sort of like the American news. Fascinating in a slow motion circus train wreck kind of way, but it's bad for my blood pressure and emotional health to watch it. One of the projects has been to update the tabs on my photo blog page. I'm not done, but I've made a start. I hadn't realized how out of date it was.

One of the useful things is the Exposure Festival currently under way. I've been out to 3 gallery openings now, and you'll be even more impressed when you remember it was in the face of minus WTF cold. In each case I've met people I know. Last night was the formal festival opening, and I actually met several people I knew already, and was introduced to another photographer who had some prints up on the wall. George, Colleen, Christine, Sean, Kathryn, in case you were interested. I was quite taken with some of the work on display.

Back to Facebook. I'm thinking about this in terms of addiction. At one point in my life I was seriously thinking I might be an alcoholic. This was a long time ago in terms of dates, but I remember it quite well. I was going out to the bar after work with the same bunch of people. Typically we'd eat supper, and drink more than I should. Then do it again the next day. About the same time beer cost $1 in the bars. Yes, it came in the ugly stubby brown bottles. If you knew how much money you went into the bar with, you could count it the next day and find how much you'd drunk. Good thing I could walk home from that bar.

Somehow I decided to go a month without drinking. I told them I had a demanding girlfriend that wanted me for kinky sex and I needed to keep my wits about me to avoid being injured. Not that I was getting any sex at that time. The month went by quick. I no longer remember how much money I didn't spend on beer, but remember being surprised at the time. 

The test was to go out with the group, have one beer, and leave. Just one beer. Maybe that was a bit of a risk, but it all worked out. I escaped, in the face of them trying to buy me just one more beer and them not believing there was a hottie waiting for me, which there wasn't. Then I didn't drink much for a while. Part of the reason to not drink was that I lost a bunch of weight. I hadn't realized beer had that many calories. And the money. 

My conclusion was that I was not actually an alcoholic, but I could see how the road I was on led in that direction. I've heard alcoholics say they were an alcoholic right from the first sip of the first drink, thought they didn't realize it till much later. Wine is my usual tipple, but I can drink a glass with dinner, and leave it. I might go a week between drinks. A cold beer on a hot summer day is nice, and it's just that. A beer. One.

I sympathize with the people struggling with addictions. There's a phrase I heard my older relatives say, "there but for the grace of God go I." I didn't understand it then, but our society seems to be built around making it easy for the rich to get richer, and the poor to fall not just into the gutter, but get swept into the sewer system and out of sight. Many of the rich like to claim they got where they are through thrift, hard work, clean living, blah blah blah, and the rest of us are moral degenerates that deserve whatever happens to us. Bah!

Back to Facebook again. It took me a while to fully realize that some very clever people have done their best to make Facebook an addictive experience. They want us to scroll and scroll, hoping to see what we came for, which is probably connections with friends. The side effect is getting hooked on the rush from the likes, and in the meantime they're scraping all the data they can about what we like, what we comment, what we share, what we look at, all while feeding us ads. Once you start, it's hard to stop. I admit to a bit of curiosity about what's happing in a couple of the groups I belong to. I'm a bit tempted to drop in and see if anyone missed me, but the more I think about it the less likely it seems. It seems much more risky to me than walking into that bar with the intent to have one beer and leave.

Part of the time last night at the Exposure Festival opening I was watching people, rather than looking at the photos. There were all ages from toddlers to mid-80's. A couple of the guys were exquisitely dressed. Some of the women had made interesting fashion choices, and I couldn't help but think how much those piercings must have hurt. Lots of the people knew each other, happily doing hug greetings. Lots of conversation. People were having fun. Actual, in person, fun. It was nice to see. Maybe I should do more of it, making an effort to change my home body habits. A work in progress.

It's gradually warming up here. It's only -12 C outside and the sun is shining. Still, there's a long way to go till spring. After all, this happened a couple years ago in mid May after a several weeks of nice weather.

Of the Day

Driftwood (NZ)

Film

Linda

Newfoundland

Polar bears

Why ever didn't I publish this, and maybe I did

90 days, or so ago