The glamour of the past
A few weeks ago, while relaxing, I decided to binge-watch Netflix’s new series, Firefly Lane. As I relaxed and got to know the characters, I quietly slid back to the glamorous, less chaotic world of the ’80s and ’90s. At the time these years seemed anything but glamorous and peaceful, but looking back, I can appreciate life without cell phones, the internet, and bars with dark corners.
As odd as it may seem, a dedicated sun-worshipper, I miss the anonymity of a bar. The days of disappearing in a dark corner, catching your thoughts, working through a long day are gone. No longer can we slip into a different world, a new restaurant or coffee shop, and disappear. Rather we are stalked by our cell phones and the endless chime of text messages, Facebook updates, and other random alerts. When did we develop the need to become so self-absorbed, so in need to know everything immediately, and for everyone to know everything about us immediately?
Years ago, I realized how distracting cell phones were. Diving into my first smartphone, I proudly signed up for every alert I could. I wanted the many chimes others seemed to enjoy so much. I soon grew tired of the distractions, the chimes, and the endless nonsensical chatter. The peace of my days, the quiet, uninterrupted work time was gone. The continuous interruptions left me feeling jarred and unnerved. I soon learned how to turn off the notifications, to place my phone on do-not-disturb, and to accidentally lose my phone.
As I slowly slid back into my quiet world of yesterday, taking frequent walks, reading books, enjoying art, and looking for beauty in nature, I rediscovered my peace. The quiet I had so longed for. Somehow, as my career has grown, I have added a few side hustles, and now a very active teenager, I have managed to keep the notifications off and often walk away from my phone for hours, never losing a beat. The desire to reenter the world of chimes has never regained its glamor for me. Rather the quiet and beauty of nature have created a much stronger pull, I find myself distracted more and more by the beauty of the outdoors than the front of my cell phone.
As I relaxed and enjoyed Firefly Lane, I realized how much going out has changed. Gone are the dark, mysterious corners, the anonymity of a new club or bar. Corners are now well lit, aligned for the perfect selfie, the next social media star. There is no privacy, there is no quiet corner. Every nook and cranny are filled with conversations, chimes, or lives. We have become so self-absorbed we forget we are no longer in our own private world and share the most private details for all to hear.
As I watched the peace of the ’80s and ‘90s I discovered a longing growing in me for the simpler days, the quiet, dark of a bar where I could lose myself, watch people, and write. I have long joked I want to develop the writing style of Ernest Hemmingway, to develop a signature drink at a bar who houses my favorite stool. A place to relax and not hear a chime, and with a dark corner I can quietly slip into as the need to disappear slowly envelops me.
Sincerely,
Sara
