Thursday, February 12, 2009


Last night on the way home I heard an article on NPR talking about the sanctity of being un-plugged, in this case, while in flight at 35,000 feet. I agree with Eric Weiner, that the state of being offline is harder to come by and increasingly precious. "Don't you love that word, offline? I do. But it is about to go the way of other cherished expressions, like 'out of the office' and 'on vacation,'" writes Weiner. In my case the status is simply "at home."

In my part of the county, we are all offline: there is no cable, no television network reception, and certainly no cell phone ability. Online? Please. We aren't. And I like it that way. I'm one of the few people at work who has managed to maintain a work-life separation. Once I leave the office, I'm (brace yourself, dear Reader) unavailable. I love it.

Of course there is a downside to the situation: As a family, we have to interact with each other more, communicate, and, when we are on our own, we have to think. This isn't such a bad deal for the adults, but it gives ample time and space for the children's minds to run amok, and, being that they are planners and thinkers, without any shortage of imagination, this means David and I hear often "You know what we need to do?"

The latest is that the boys are both wanting to attend MIT, and that they want to do it together. Of course they have figured all this out: Ethan will take a year off after graduating, get a small job and help Graeme graduate a year early. Now, never once have they entertained the idea that they wouldn't get accepted to MIT; I applaud this. I'm a little less enthusiastic about the idea of double tuition, room and board at one of the country's most prestigious (read: expensive) private engineering universities, but I am thankful for the nine-year advance notice.

Can we say "Scholarship?"