
If you'd looked for me last Sunday, you'd have found me in Cancun, sitting under the shade of a papa, a dusting of white sand on my toes, warm breezes stirring the pages of my book, the crystalline waters of the Caribbean shimmering only yards away. Five days of heaven...
But, the problem of "getting away from it all" is that it is all still here when you return! For some that provides comfort -- my husband, for example, is always ready to get back to our normal routine. I would be in the opposing camp. Normal seems pale and dull and, well, so normal.
So maybe that explains my indifference to Thing #17 - Rollyo. For someone coming off a vacation high, it is just so linear , so focused. It allows for no spontaneity, no discovery. It creates a very small box.
Remember that scene from "The Jerk" when Navin (played by Steve Martin) is working at the carnival? To the question of what prize a particular winner gets, Navin responds "Uh, anything in this general area right in here. Anything below the stereo and on this side of the bicentennial glasses. Anything between the ashtrays and the thimble. Anything in this three inches right in here in this area. That includes the Chiclets, but not the erasers."
I know, I know - Sometimes, especially in the vastness of cyberspace, you long for someone to say "Look here - right in these three inches. This is where you will find your answers". Sometimes you want focus, sometimes you just want information, free of distractions. You know the websites you like, you know the ones you don't like, you know which are credible and which are just junk. Yes, sometimes a small area, created through a personalized search engine like rollyo, is exactly what you want.
And I'm sure in the fall, when I am helping my students with research or when I am looking for a particular piece of criticism, I will be glad to have put boundaries on the vastness of cyberspace, to have defined my own three inches of shelf space.
But not right now, not today. Today I want to keep the fullness of my vacation alive: bare feet, lightly tanned, splish-splashing down miles and miles of coastline.