Surreptitious Surfing
Okay, I knew it would happen sometime. This post arises more from desperation than design: I write for my own sanity and sobriety. Please read with a grain of grace.
In case you haven't noticed, there's a lot of crapola on the net. Virtually any deviant behavior you might want to see can be found with a few discreet taps of the mouse. Even good, well meaning people can find themselves doing some "surreptitious surfing." I know. I'm one of them.
Ever been a "surreptitious surfer?" Most people think it's no big deal. "No harm, no foul," as Al McCoy would say. I suspect they're kidding themselves. I don't judge them. But I know for me, if I'm not careful the net can be a deep, dark hole from which there is little hope of return.
The slightest event can trigger a devastating chain reaction. Case in point: I just learned that a certain celebrity had an infamous "wardrobe malfunction." (No, it wasn't at the Super Bowl!) It's been eating at me off and on all day. I know that with a few key strokes I can see what all the fuss was about.
Innocuous? Perhaps to some. But what I know about myself is this: if I permit myself a prurient peek, chances are it will lead to a sinister evening of surreptitious surfing. A flood of other images of accidental and intentional exposure will pollute my monitor and my mind. I will be trapped and frustrated and angry and repentant -- and likely to do it all over again tomorrow.
Yes, I know it sounds like the alcoholic; maybe that's exactly what it is. Whatever it is, it is what it is. All I know is I don't like what happens to me when I get in that rut. It's an easy door to walk into and a difficult door to walk out of. Like the old Lay's commercial: "No one can eat just one." Or like the Eagles' "Hotel California": You can checkout any time you like, But you can never leave!
So I'm blogging instead. At least for the moment it occupies my mind. Perhaps at another time I'll wax philosophical. For now I'm just trying to keep my sanity. So far it's working. Thanks for listening.
1 Comments:
steve, steve, steve... as i read more and more of your writings i realize you're as sick as me... :) two peas in a pod. eighteen hundred miles apart, but sharing the same brain --- hard to believe.
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