The Off Switch

Over a soup and salad dinner at church last night (Sunday the 28th), talk inevitably turned to Hurricane Sandy. There was a certain excitement in the air. While no one wished for injury to person or property, many at my table seemed hopeful that Sandy would interrupt our lives.

Losing power would be inconvenient, but it would offer freedom, too. Freedom from screens of all sorts. If the outage were to last long enough, batteries would deplete. We'd be free even of our iPads, iPods, and iPhones.

I don't have to wait for storm winds to turn the power off. My toys have switches. But how often do I use them?

My iPhone is my alarm clock. It rests on an upper corner of my bed. There, the "Sleep Cycle" app can register movements in the mattress and determine how deeply I'm sleeping. Because it wakes me only from light sleep, I always arise refreshed and energized. (Actual results may vary.) 

The drawback, of course, is that I sleep with my phone.

Last week I was startled awake in the early dawn hours by a robot voice-message from US Airways, telling me that my flight was delayed by two hours, but that I should arrive at the gate on time, just in case. Thanks, US Air.

I suppose that I asked for it. Even in my bed, even soundly asleep, I am not out of reach. 

I can't wait to get back to Shrine Mont on November 9. Going to camp is a bit like hitting the off switch. Sure, there's electricity, but the cell phone signal is abysmal, and the screens stay at home.

The result is my romanticized storm dream. There's nothing left to do but be together -- sing songs, play games, and tell stories. I urge parents of 6th and 7th graders: consider giving your child this gift next week.