Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Thanks, Internet.

In an attempt to check something off my bucket list, I became a camp counselor at the age of 25. While I would HIGHLY recommend being a camp counselor, I encourage you to do it at 18 like everyone else. 

Working side-by-side with 18 year-olds: tough. 
Being silly with kids: easy. 

No matter what, I'm glad I did it and if nothing else, it fulfilled my desire to sing silly songs....Every. Single. Day. So much so, that I wrote a few of them down to ensure I'd remember them for my kids.

Cut to now, at age 33. I am currently doing some spring cleaning and came across the piece of paper I have been saving with notes on those songs. The list even made it from Santa Monica to Culver City in my most recent move. And it's been sitting on my desk for months now as a reminder that I need to just sit down and type them out, save them and be done.

So today, I started to do just that. And as I started through the first line, I couldn't read my handwriting and thought, "Oh. I can just Google it. Duh." Then I realized I had sort of been saving my chicken-scratch notes for no reason. Everything seems to be one click away.

And then I got a little sad. The internet is truly amazing and it seems every answer is at my fingertips. Thanks, Internet.

But it takes away from some of the sweetness and challenge of remembering things on our own.

I've been challenging myself (and my reluctant friends) to put down their smartphone when someone asks, "What was that guy's name?" or "What does faineant mean?". Try to use your brain, I promise it works if you give it a chance.