Summer, before the internet

It can be easy to forget what life was like before the internet there’s the outsourcing of memory I miss my attention span having fewer distractions

You’d have yawning summer afternoons drifting around our garden let your thoughts wander most kids played outside We couldn’t take work home

There was a huge book that had everyone’s phone number in it you called them on the phone and hoped they were home how much time we spent yakking

We’d just drive around for hours with the windows down show up at friend’s houses hanging out in someone’s basement time felt infinite

The joy of receiving a handwritten letter? there were only 13 channels you taped music off the radio bought vinyl at the record store Amazon was just a river

A friend would play matchmaker if you wanted to go on a date pluck up the courage to ask relationships happened by accident it felt like fate had intervened

You could get lost adrift by yourself in a world of strangers my folks never knew where I was if you broke down on the road you’d use a pay phone on the street

Quite soon, no person on Earth will remember what the world was like the hazy, lazy days of July and August we didn’t feel we were missing out on anything at all.