Consecutive Days

This fall, Rosh Hashanah and Sukkot occupy Thursday-Friday.  Add shabbos, which makes three consecutive restricted days three weekends out of four.  While our Rabbis regard these as special times to escape daily obligations, I kinda like what I do most days.  No electronic devices for three consecutive days, three weekends out of four?  That's a lot of FOMO.  The purpose of Yom Tovim and shabbos might be separation.  They have a measure of compensation for what will be missed.  Special dinners.  The preparatory efforts for shabbos each week and the Yom Tovim as they arise.  A completed sukkah.  Special liturgy.  An OLLI schedule that omits Thursday and Friday classes this semester.  But nine days of separation all in the same calendar month seems a lot.

I don't really miss the laptop when it is off.  Social Media really does get too absorbing.  It needs a break. Not much happens if I don't do crosswords for a few days.  FB, Reddit, and email avoidance challenge me more, though they shouldn't.  I've largely abandoned Twitter.  It's a detriment to me.  Minor withdrawal symptoms but don't miss it.  FB has a few contacts with friends, offset in a big way by unsolicited posts that the psych major Stanford alumni think will keep me on their screen instead of somebody else's.  Reddit might be a little harder, as I make contributions that others might find helpful, though few make contributions that I find helpful.  Setting these aside for shabbos each week is not hard.  Three consecutive days generates minor withdrawal, though never overt FOMO.

These three day breaks never really become Me Time, though.  I have guests or am a guest.  But some Me Time gets carved into those three days.  Social Media is not Me Time.

Rosh Hashanah with its social strains but new horizons completed.  Some sukkah inspiration ahead.  Then the concluding days.  The designers of the Hebrew calendar anticipated folks like me would be Jewish saturated by the end of this.  They scheduled the subsequent month to be devoid of special days, but nicknamed that month Mar Heshvan, or Bitter Heshvan, due to the absence of designated times other than shabbos.  I think of it more as respite.

Try Not to Respond

 

Now off FB, X, and Reddit more than two weeks.  FB notices have passed 100.  Only one moment of FOMO when FB emailed me that a very good friend received a comment from one of the HS popular kids who usually does not comment.  Did I miss a condolence?  That would end my hiatus.  My wife shares that good friend.  She reports that he was engaged in significant travel.  That does not need a response from me.

While the economic business model of social media depends highly on emotional provocation, as does televised media, podcasts, and now political figures, often it is better to stay on the sidelines.  

עֵ֥ת לַֽחֲשׁ֖וֹת וְעֵ֥ת לְדַבֵּֽר  as Kohelet observed.

Sometimes not commenting means don't care, as in the many lures to sell me things that come in my email feed. Sometimes I do care.  Respond and React are not the same.  The political messages intend to provoke my reaction.  Responses need to be more reflective.  And as Conflict Entrepreneurs get more sophisticated, responses also need some rationing.

One making rounds this week from a number of sources is an accusation that if I vote my way instead of their way I don't care about Israel and I am a defective Jew.  Very easy to get into that playground mode of Am Not:Are Too.  But merit as a Jew, unlike merit as an Evangelical Christian Nationalist, is not about how you vote.  It is about a vision for how you would like things to turn out with respectable ways of bringing the vision about.  It is about not having victims. It is about either not making enemies, or at least being very selective about which ones.  The essence of Judaism is about how you treat people.  The Conflict Entrepreneurs really missed the boat.

I vote for the candidates they publicly demean, though unsuccessful taking me with them.  I also eat kosher, observe shabbat, share my treasure in ways that make Israel stronger and make Jewish institutions secure.  I don't steal, either property or the genevas da-as of ideas.

While internal conflict is part of Jewish history, so much so that our Talmud was the first enduring document to include minority positions with their reasoning, disconnecting people usually turns out badly.  

Always respond thoughtfully, but also selectively.

No Messages

FOMO.  My interactive electronics, other than telephone with my kids, shut down for shabbos each week.  From candle lighting Friday until the specified conclusion of shabbos on my congregation's weekly newsletter the internet gets placed someplace else, with rare exceptions like needing Waze to get where I need to go.  Festivals extend that.  These last two days.  When they begin on Wednesday night, or on rare occasions Saturday night, that extends to a three day internet free hiatus.  But mostly two days.  They can cluster a bit, like they do each fall for Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot, and Simchat Torah, plus the Shabbatot between them most years.  FOMO more at the beginning of this season.

I find myself in the middle.  Sukkot with its two days off ended, extended about an extra hour as I was having dinner with friends in a sukkah when the Festival time concluded.  I had left my cell phone in the car's cell phone holder, covered with a baseball cap to deter thievery.  When I returned to my car, Festival fully concluded, I just drove home.  No FOMO at all.

Into the house, supine posture on the living room couch, then see what I missed for two days.  Not exactly Nada, but nothing of any importance that would cause me any hesitation about setting the phone aside again next weekend.  All emails but one, some three dozen of them, from commercial or subscription sources, those automated messages that just go out from places that think I might want new tires or have an article that I have to read, or a FB friend had posted a message of some type not really directed at me personally.  Only one real notification, a message from an old friend wishing me a great Sukkot.  The FB notification bell read 14.  Majority were Likes of something I had posted about the Sukkot festival or something else.  Reminder that a Hagar the Horrible strip was open for view would never get opened, nor will a couple of real FB friends making one more post to share guidance from somebody else who shares their political hashkafa, which never gets opened lest I offer a false impression that I buy into something like that.  The text icon had only one message, that I am due to schedule platelet donation, which I already knew. My initiative to block unsolicited political messages over the past month seemed pretty successful.  Reddit r/Judaism, no messages.  They were all off for Sukkot too.  And Twitter, now appropriately Rated X as a public blight, had no responses to any of the few things I had posted.

So, it appears that much of cyberspace is very expendable.  We've probably known that for about a hundred years, ever since a personal telephone in the home became an American population norm.  When it rings we answer it.  Mostly still do.  For a long time, we wondered who might have called while we were away, mostly rationalizing those missed chances to chat with the largely correct assumption that people who really needed to reach us will call back.  Then we got answering machines and caller ID, so the compulsion to answer every ring before it stopped ringing became much less, though for many of my era never fully disappeared.  And in business and medical care, we accumulated secretaries, answering services, and beepers so there would never be FOMO in that setting.

While postal mail is never urgent, many of us are scripted to look out the door for the mail carrier.  Birthday or holiday cards could be open on arrival or deferred.  Letters, bills, bank statements all had their envelopes opened. Same with IRS refunds, and for those of us applying to schools that year, their correspondence was eagerly awaited each day. Solicitations for money, maybe not.  The nature of postal mail has shifted.  There are no letters, maybe a few greeting cards, no postcards of friends on vacation, bills on autopay and therefore either not notified by mail or already paid before the notices arrives.  Instead, we have a few periodicals, some by paid subscription, some a benefit from organizations where we hold membership, many unsolicited.  But mostly the daily mail is from somebody who desires a portion of our accumulated treasure, sometimes for a worthy cause, sometimes to enrich themselves.

And now we have things beyond our telephone calls that really are interactive.  Personally I don't care who or if anyone responds to my FB posts.  At one time when most of my Class of '69 enrolled, who is doing what today had more urgency than it does now.  Birthdays and anniversaries come while I am away on shabbos.  At one time a belated greeting went out, or if I remember I could be the first to convey my best wishes.  Now I'm just not part of FB that day.  Somewhere between sign-up and a fair number of years ago, notes from my friends mostly petered out in favor of pitches for things for me to buy or to believe in.  Those things don't seriously compete with shabbos or yontif when I am electronically away.  And the posts really haven't generated faux conversations for a considerable time

Some users of Twitter and Reddit try to handle their posts as dialog.  I don't.  I write what I want, let the readers do with it what they want.  No reason to respond to most whether shabbos or not.  

Some use their text messages as a conversation.  Good way to collide with something while driving.  And even if not driving, it's never as good as a telephone call for personal interaction with exchange of ideas.

So for two days periodically and one day every week, I have cyberspace rest.  No FOMO, as I am really not part of this global conversation in real time.  But in exchange, I get fifteen minutes of real interaction, those few minutes selecting who I want to talk to at kiddush or who might want to talk to me while we nosh on a mini black & white cookie and some babka.  Those only happen when the cell phones have been set aside.

Absent Cell Phone

Being in my later years, most of it transpired without portable devices other than my hospital issued medical pager.  As a resident, its range was essentially only the hospital.  Beyond that, its range was literally Beyond.  And it went off.  Inconvenient times, inconvenient places.  Inside, it would get answered immediately.  Outside or car, it depended on who had been trying to reach me.  The number needed to call back either came audibly or visibly on an alphanumeric screen.  If it seemed like a medical need, depending on how far I was from my destination, I would postpone the return call until I arrived there or if farther away, drive to someplace that likely had a pay phone.  A phone that could call from the car definitely warranted a tax deduction as legitimate professional equipment.  I only needed one to make calls.  The beeper remained the preferred means of somebody trying to reach me.  A few dumb phones, basically used like my home or office phone but with portability, served their intended purpose.  As technology improved, though, having a portable device that could connect me not only to what the telephone used to do but all of cyberspace became irresistible to most people with the means  to get one, so I joined the global community of smartphone users.

Its most essential purpose really has not changed.  My hand-held device goes with me in the car where it becomes a rack-held device, not to return beeps but just in case I am immobilized while driving.  And that rarely happens, but when it does, the phone is my easy way back to normal.  FOMO, no, FOCarBreakdown si.  While devices now do it all, it is only with my current car that I abandoned an independent GPS device, as the one that came with my current car failed too many times.  I have an independent camera, tape recorder, flashlight, measuring devices, laptop, stereo, and a full collection of road maps from when the gas stations, tourist bureaus, and AAA gave them away for free.  The maps of the places I go still have a pouch in the back seat where I can retrieve the one I need within minutes of when I need it.  My car radio has AM/FM.  I still go to the library to get books.  So while apps can replace most of these things, indeed I have downloaded many of these electronic tools, it is really only the device GPS that I use plus the peace of mind that I can contact assistance immediately when needed.  And I can do that safely, as my 2018 sedan projects my cell phone options onto an easily visible dashboard screen.  Technically, I do not need the phone holder, as the dashboard screen will display my phone options even when it is in my pants pocket.

One day last week, instead of putting the smartphone in my pocket or on one of two tables, the desk where I work or the table where I eat, I left it on its overnight resting place, also limited to three.  It could pass away the dark hours in its charger, under my pillow with the sleep tracker recording later how my insomnia fared, or it could just lie idly flat on a shelf behind my bed.  The fewer places an object could be, the less likely it will be misplaced.  This night I left it behind my bed. 

Up at usual time.  Morning routine, dental hygiene, check indoor plants, retrieve newspaper from driveway, make coffee, then take it upstairs for a morning at my laptop until treadmill time.  Often I will first use the cell phone as a timer for my scheduled treadmill session, but this day I used a kitchen timer, pulling it with its magnet off the refrigerator.  Exercise done, timer back on fridge door.  Me back in My Space on laptop.  Needing to do some errands, seek a few minor amusements, and sit on a park bench in the sunshine for a while, I headed to the car, driving off but without my omnipresent device.  I didn't even realize its absence until reaching into my left pants pocket, it's usual place of transport, finding it not there.  I didn't need it, but might have listened to an audiobook borrowed from our library's Hoopla Service on the way home.  Pretty reliable car, not likely to break down.  Drive safely, not likely to have a collision and if I did somebody from the other car could call the police.  Just drove home.  When I got there I confirmed that my smartphone had remained in its customary overnight resting place behind my bed.  I made a decision to leave it there until bedtime, then charge overnight if necessary, but not use it or even have it with me until the next day.  If I wanted to drive someplace else without it, I would, and without its GPS capability.  No phone until the next day.  No apps until the next day.  If I fell down the stairs or had chest pain at home, I could either hobble to a landline or my wife would eventually find me.  It just stayed there.  And with no adverse consequences of not having it.

As a practical matter, the downside of portability is losing the device, which I'm sure happens a lot.  Lost & Founds likely have drawers or bins of these cell phones.  People insure their devices from loss or theft.  But in the hours to days of absence, there is an inevitable FOMO or parallel dread of not being to replace what was on the SIM Card or mini-SD Card.  I knew where my phone was the entire time, forgoing its figurative attachment to me voluntarily.  It brought me peace to not have it, yet know where it was.  Not knowing where it was would have generated a very different inner response.

Scrolled Right Through

One of my better decisions seems to have been to leave each day's access to FB and Tw to chance, in the form of a virtual roulette wheel.  The virtual marble has been settling in Even=No the last few days but this morning came of 17=Go For It.  I did.  No messages.  Upon scrolling nothing approaching a profound comment.  There were anniversaries to be acknowledged, as August has become the most popular wedding month, my own among them.  The usual political statements.  Pictures of cute animals and cute kids.  The vast wasteland hardly ended with Newton Minow's assessment of early television.  It has been repackaged for our day and for our amusement.

FOMO?  Not at all.

No Messages

As I have accepted the verdict of the electronic roulette wheel for whether I engage in social media that day, ODD=yes, EVEN=no, I still start by checking any messages on both Twitter and FB.  Usually FB has some from the night before, rarely important, but I still like to wish people a Happy Birthday.  FOMO has mostly disappeared.  There just isn't anything to miss out on.  Yet I anticipate at least the FB corporate board has an interest in trying to engage me in some way.

Not this morning.  I scored a virtual Goose Egg.  Zip from Tw and FB, only one email from a weekly Parsha commentary that usually arrives a little later in the day on Wednesdays but today got transmitted overnight.

Do I feel electronically bypassed?  Well, partly yes and partly no.  I have a lot of things better to do than check messages.  The impulse to respond often detracts from more gratifying but more effort laden projects.  But wanting to be left alone and being left alone are not the same, any more than solitude and loneliness are not the same.  It would have been better to have a message or two, accept today's roulette spin of 12 as a day to not engage in social media, then wade through the things that offer me the day's feeling of accomplishment.

Should Do Instead

FB Twitter have been dormant for a week now.  I feel less distracted, less likely to interrupt something I'm doing to check what's new.  I've not had anxiety withdrawal or FOMO.  I also don't really care if anyone's missed my absence or even noted.  Did I do things that I wouldn't have done had the distraction continued?  So far probably not.  I have engaged in some drawing, visiting a couple of parks, returning to my colored pencils with an adult style coloring book, retrieved my putter and good driver, and made my bicycle suitable for riding though I might have done these anyway. On the other hand, I hadn't even though some have been on my task list daily.  A book came to my attention so I started reading it, but I've taken books from the Hoopla service before while still engaged in social media.  What may be different is that so far I've not timed my session with it to maintain a pace to completion.  I downloaded an English translation of The Quran which I always wanted to read.  The longest chapter, 286 verses, comes right after the short introduction.  With pacing I got through it, understanding why some of the references now viewed as Anti-Semitic appear upfront, but also why some of the most basic Islamic requirements such as Hajj and the annual Ramadan fast appear in the same chapter.  Don't know if I'll get through the rest of this.  For sure, FB would have distracted my progress on this long chapter, probably a little longer than our most lengthy double Parsha.

Those are the accessories, though, as is FB and Twitter.  The really substantial initiatives, other than gardening which has gone very well, still languish.  I have a Social Security appeal to prepare, writing that has not progressed from ideas to paragraphs, two trips I'd like to take but haven't, and a course by DVD on electronics that has not moved forward as well as it could have.  FB was not the distraction that inhibited progress on these.  My real degree of commitment to them might be.

At one week, it's been a good week off, something akin to a cyberspace vacation.

Less Interested

On the dates divisible by 4 I shun Facebook and Twitter.  It took some willpower at first but lately it hasn't. That day being yesterday, I opened neither, had no Fear of Missing Out, acronymed FOMO. There was a time when I sort of did, but not lately.  The permissibility of social media returned to me at 5:30AM this morning but being tired, I had no inclination to see what I missed until more awake.  Then I did, only to discover that I missed nothing.  Two groups had responded to trivial comments on mine, one about the Eagles where I hinted that their coach needed to repent for some misconduct, the other about a site near my childhood home where my father had been sent for basic training when drafted into World War 2.  No reactions from anyone I actually knew about anything I had written, whether written about myself or in response to something somebody else has written.

As I go about the posts of the 24 hours that I avoided, they were mostly political posts pitching the hardball to excoriate the President, who I think deserves the demeaning remarks, or defending the blight that challenges our election.  By now I've gotten the hang of each position.  One very good friend has a daily presentation of science which I should read, though gradually evolving from the purity of analysis to the justification of his position on the public discourse of the day. That I regularly read, and often submit my own comment.

What has happened to Facebook seems a form of attrition.  I've been a participant about ten years, according to their records, as I do not keep my own records on this.  It was great to connect to high school chums, a few friends at the time, more acquaintances who became electronic friends.  Gradually their individual presence has waned. Most used to write about events of their lives, from vacations to challenges at work, their pets, or what they knitted or cooked.  They engaged in basically written conversation about themselves.  That's a lot different than the written placards which dominate now.

As the forum changes, so does my interest.  Sometimes as I read, or really glance at, what some repetitively post, I find myself in an unwelcome position of thinking less of the poster, their disdain for thought trampling my memories of them as engaging contemporaries who I once knew personally.  As this become more the norm, displacing the electronic banter that made Facebook attractive, I can understand the gradual attrition of my acquaintances from the forum, along with my own waning interest in engaging with what remains.

Didn't Miss Out

 Electronics shut down for shabbos and yom tov.  Facebook and Twitter shut down for dates divisible by 4.   These two coincided this week.  Technically I could have checked my email after Havdalah but opted to wait until the next morning for catch up.  Fear of Missing Out, acronym FOMO?  Not for a while.

So what did I miss?  Email, a couple of comments from a good friend on email but not urgent.  Some notifications that somebody sent me messages on FB.  The usual immediately deletable titles.  A few Endocrinology notices that I might get around to reading. But other than the two comments from my friend, nothing addressed exclusively to me.

Twitter had no notifications regarding anything I posted.  There were six messages regarding postings of the few people I still follow.  How the algorithm decides what to isolate for my attention I have no idea.  Looked at all six.  Pursued Zero.

FB had one message directed to me and a couple of Like or similar notifications.  I set the option on Most Recent and scrolled through.  Nearly all relatively predictable comments from relatively predictable sources expressing displeasure with the current President.  While I share the sentiment, it's been repeated enough times from the same sources that harvesting the posts now, or ever for that matter, rather than closer to their appearance could not be classified as deprivation.

I did learn from a comment that an old friend decided to relocate, but did not confirm where.  That might leave me as the only FB stalwart who maintains and Empty Nest, though empty of people, not of stuff.

Setting aside electronics as scheduled remains a good thing to do.