Unplugged

This morning, I vetoed packing a lunch (how easy is that on days when you're scurrying off to work, by the way?) and headed out around the work neighborhood on foot to find a noontime meal. I thought about grabbing my iPod or Blackberry for company, but I decided against it. I found myself strolling to the grocery store unplugged. No watch, no music, no phone, not even my ID or credit card--just a fistful of cash ten dollar bill to cover lunch.

How often, reader, do you do that? A lot? Never?

I used to do it more. I lived four blocks from my office door and walked pretty often, and I got in the habit of going technology-free for the trip pretty frequently. Now, when I run, I usually either have headphones on (with a quiet podcast so I can hear traffic) or am gabbing with running buddies. When I bike, I'm keeping eyes and ears peeled for wayward vehicles. I'm probably in the middle of the spectrum in terms of being attached to a smartphone. But even when I'm walking from the car to the grocery store or my apartment, it's not uncommon to grab my Blackberry and scan an email or check Twitter. Blugh!

It felt really nice to walk for 20 minutes without anything in my pockets (save for the previously-mentioned lunch fund), and then I thought how goofy it would be to explain that to someone my grandma's age or, heck, my parents' age. I took in the trees and the restaurant signs and the perfect July weather. I even got to notice, when I passed by an old residence of mine, the window decor that indicated that Naked Man still lives in the second floor apartment across the street from my old place. (PSA: Do draw your shades if you are in the habit of not wearing clothes in your home with large windows facing a busy street.)

It was relaxing and great, and I pledge to take more quiet walks--until it's nothing special to write about.