As a youth I always wanted to call foreign phone numbers at random, both to practice my beginning German and to be alert for clues of "otherness" that would banish the sameness of Midwestern culture. But the high price of long distance calls and the unlikelihood of reaching a willing party made for high hurdles. So there is a sort of wonder inherent in this technology's ability to deliver information from a given point A, such as my site, to a given point B, a point so unimaginably distant that the seasons there are reversed, or to an even further point C. That we might influence each other would seem a laughable proposition until a decade ago, at least on the earthly plane.
Examples abound: I hear that Kathy was contacted by someone she hasn't heard from in five years (via a google search); I receive an email from Sr. Mary Catharine Perry after casually mentioning her new book; occasionally there are fellow searchers for an obscure childhood poem. The internet can also serve as connective tissue to memories of former selves - such as this, our eighth grade graduation song:
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine
I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
'ere I forget all the joy that is mine, today
I'll be a dandy, and I'll be a rover
You'll know who I am by the songs that I sing
I'll feast at your table, I'll sleep in your clover
Who cares what the morrow shall bring.
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