Private Lives

Yesterday Dad and I went to see his sleep doctor, a nice, soft-spoken Asian guy who figures Dad just needs a little iron in his life. At any rate, they put us in a little room, after we read the sign out in the waiting room that says the doctor is on time. Then we start listening to the conversation in the adjoining room. Conversation is a euphemism for diatribe. I have pictured the man next door as an overweight, overbearing farmer whose family has dispossessed him. He's screaming at the doc. He's talking about how he thrashes around at night, wakes up with his mask in his hand, how he's divorced now because of it (Dad notes a possible other reason for the divorce), and he goes on and on, about pills and other doctors, blah blah blah. Finally, I get up and take Dad with me. I tell the nurse, hey, we'll wait outside because we really don't want to hear this guy's entire medical history. Boy, was that uncomfortable. And all I could think of is how they now make us wait behind some silly line at the pharmacy so people can have their "privacy."

I was at School Board the other night, and they have finally changed their policy to allow directory information online - as well as other printed materials. I wrote Miss Craigle immediately, and hope that she'll start putting up the Red and Black. The whole privacy issue is terribly misunderstood.

In some cases, we throw out our birthdates like they're candy, we "friend" total strangers on Facebook, and then we whine about not having lives of our own. The real lesson here is that we all must assume someone can lurk at almost any moment. We need to be brave and talk about things important to us, about our opinions, etc. But we also need to be mindful that the public often misinterprets things and that ill-advised statements tend to live forever.

The truth is that most people don't really want to be totally private. We have enough trouble just living within our own skins, and the trick is to find out how to reach out to others and let them in - even if just a little.

I tried to tell Lindsey to be careful on FB. Her language, you know. She said she can't control her mouth. This does not bode well for her future.

I noticed that Harry is writing for the Red and Black this year. He's becoming interested in journalism now, although I'm not sure what aspect. I'll be talking to Jane next week, so will have more info.