Fairy Dust and Fireflies

We got the luxurious opportunity to visit our son and his wife and baby this last week. He is making the rounds, traveling and doing construction jobs all over the country. This one landed them in Orlando, the land of all things Disney. We had a wonderful time at SeaWorld and strolling through the shops. But I couldn't help but wonder...

Do I dare step in this pile?

I grew up in the 60s and 70s. Disney for our family was that few moments on Sunday night when we saw the show coming on TV. Us kids were hoping Mama and Daddy wouldn't notice that it was time to leave for church and maybe we might get to actually watch it. But alas, usually we headed out the door. I loved to see Tinkerbell waving her wand over the castle and all that fairy dust going everywhere. Our family didn't have the means to actually visit Disney or even see all the movies. Our vacations were more in the mode of visiting relatives and tent camping on Lake Allatoona. 

You might think I would be sad. Or bitter. I never got to visit Mickey. But I'm not. Maybe it was the fact that we saw very little of those Disney shows on Sunday nights. Or that it wasn't advertised as heavily back then. Most probably, it was because we had a relationally-rich childhood full of heavenly-scented, newly-mown grass to run in, fireflies all around in damp, heady romps in the woods, the bittersweet bite of wild, ripe muscadines, truckloads of books from library trips in the summer, trips to Grandmas who thought you hung the moon, and sticky days running barefoot with siblings and cousins. Who needed Disney? Life was simpler, cheaper, with less expectations and more fulfillment. Instant gratification was limited to getting that one little drop of goodie out of a honeysuckle blossom. I'm not (that) old yet, and this wasn't that long ago. I'm afraid our fantastic bouquet of technology is making us into zombies (read: walking dead). 

Our oldest child is 31 years old. When we birthed our four babies, I was already seeing the writing on the wall -- that outside stimulation and technology was beginning to overtake us. What I always hated about even the simplest TV was that hoards of people could all sit in the same room and stare at it, not talking, eating mindlessly, living vicariously through silly sitcoms that were way more exciting than actual life. In one show, you can cram days and weeks into one concentrated 20-minute episode. Real life can seem mighty sluggish in comparison. There have been studies done on what happens to our brains when a TV is on. Basically: nothing. We are entertained and don't have to think or process much. No wonder it's so easy to get hooked on it. And so hard to let go of it. I am just as guilty as anyone. In my dreams, though, I wish we could throw the things away and start over. 

I tried valiantly, however, with my kids. I limited their TV time to when their Dad was home and watching sports or special movies. We didn't buy them video games or high tech toys. I remember being scolded by people because we didn't have a computer or cellphones for many years. We moved out to the country and I shooed them out the door for entertainment. They grew up in the trees and woods, a world similar to my childhood. We homeschooled them, because I wanted them to think for themselves and not be led by their peers like lemmings over the cliff. Did this yield perfect adults or Mayberry in Douglasville? I'd like to think so, but naw....we're all still perfectly cracked humans. Still, I'm thankful that we resisted the onslaught and that they had an old-school upbringing.

There's always ominous reports, no matter what universe you live in, controversies and dire predictions that threaten to destroy the world. Sometimes horrible things happen. Countries get bombed, droughts and plagues and tsunamis hit. We could have an EMP attack (a deliberate burst of energy that could disrupt the electrical grid and cripple NORAD's ability to defend the nation). There are whole websites and fantastic movies dedicated to the notion, where we could be thrown back into the Stone Ages instantly. Fireflies and muscadines wouldn't look so romantic then. Some people say "Prepare!" and others say "Baloney!" 

I think I'm too tired to prepare, so I'd just have to go out with the first wave. 

Either way, better to have lived, really lived, than to exist in a Disney bubble, no matter how cute, fun and entertaining it might be. Please don't hate me.