July 21, 2003

One Degree of Seperation

Tabitha and I spent the past weekend at a state park near Tahoe with her folks. The running gag was that I’m a good person to have along on a camping trip since I’m an almost irresistible target for mosquitos. My presence ensures a nearly bug-free experience for those I’m with. So the next time you’re trying to decide between bug spray and citronella candles, hire me to tag along instead. =-) Tab and I had a great time, were amazingly well fed, and even got into a bit of a water fight at one point.

At the very end of our weekend, after roughly 400 miles of flawless driving, I was in the midst of renegotiating my car’s relationship with the curb when I failed to notice (for only a moment) a car calmly cruising up the street. I stopped fast, they swerved a bit, I wondered how I hadn’t seen them, they stopped about two car lengths ahead, I raised my hand and mouthed “I’m sorry”, and they cruised off. I felt pretty badly about it though and I recognized the car as being a regular in the neighborhood. I didn’t want there to be any grudges so a little later I left an apology note on their windshield.

Here’s the point: I signed the note because it seemed sort of cowardly not to. That got me thinking about how robustly connected we all are. My name is easily connected to this site. Even if you’re not a compulsive blogger there’s probably at least a little information about you on the web somewhere. As time goes on our net identities will play more of a part in what people think of us. Whether we like it or not.

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