Originally published October 12, 2000
by Adam Zurn

Every August, we spend the month camping in the Adirondack mountains. Perhaps I should specify what I mean by "we." We is the entire clan-grandparents, uncles, aunts, great uncles, great aunts, cousins, second cousins, family so distant that I'm not sure what their relation is and friends now considered family.

During our stay, there is no easily accessible running water or electricity, no television, no internet, no cell phones, poor pager coverage and few radio stations. There are two to be precise, one is public radio and the other doesn't come in very well.

We're often under the impression that the world will stop turning if we aren't keeping our watchful eye on it. Surprisingly when we don't, it doesn't stop. We have to accept the fact that the world can indeed go on without us-to our disappointment of course.

In the situation I just described, you are undoubtedly wondering what does one do without current technological novelties? You do other things. You read books. You hike. You play cards. You swim. You sit by the campfire. You get to know your family and friends.

There's something beautiful about not answering the phone, carrying your pager around, wondering if so and so has sent you that important e-mail yet, or being home in time to watch the latest episode of "Ethnic Couple Mismatch."

Yes, technology has increased productivity and kept inflation low, but it has also increased the pace of life. We're always in a rush; never taking the time to smell the roses or to enjoy the beauty that is life. That's why I like time spent camping because I can do those things.

I know people who are too connected. They have that infernal cell phone strapped constantly to their side. They are constantly checking their e-mail and voicemail seeing if they've received any messages yet. If this is what works for them, so be it. Nevertheless, I do not want to be that available to anyone. I take great pleasure in letting the phone ring and letting the answering machine get it. I don't like the idea of a cell phone where I can be reached anytime, anywhere. When I'm out having a good time, I don't want people calling me.

It seems that the moment a person gets a cell phone, they have license to be incredibly rude in public. At restaurants, people chat away loudly trying to drown out the background noise. In the movies, someone's cell phone rings and rings and then when that person does answer has to explain to the caller what movie is playing and what has happened thus far. This is not for me. I'll be the first to admit that are times when it would be nice to have a cell phone like getting a flat tire on a dark rainy night. But that's the risk I take.

When I do finally come home after camping I eventually have to check my e-mail. I like e-mail for the simple reason that it's free and that I can check it when I please, unlike answering the phone.

After one week, my e-mail account had accumulated 103 emails. I realize that isn't many compared to some of you internet junkies; nevertheless, one hundred takes a while to sift through. What disappointed me about all these messages was that of the 103 only two were personal. There were more than that but only two of them had any bearing on my life. The other 101 were stock market updates, daily news bytes, coupons for online purchases, and of course, those terrible forwards. The anti-Hallmark-"when you care to send the very worst."

My personal favorite is the Microsoft tracking email and for every person you send it to, you get one dollar or something foolish like that. The funny thing is many of the people who send it to me actually believe it's for real.

So after a week of no television, no computers, no technological interruptions of any kind, I find myself more connected with the world than ever before. So you have to ask yourself: is meeting people an ocean away that important when you haven't taken the time to get to know those around you?

I'll bet you that the sight from the top of a mountain is more breathtaking than any site on the internet regardless of what QuickTime, Flash or Shockwave plug-in the page may take advantage of. Simple is often better, and it's taken me a long time to learn that.