The Sabbath

Sunday was easier than Saturday. I spent the day fishing. To my surprise there are no televisions on the river. I was shocked. I made a conceited effort to forget my cell phone in my room. I lent my computer to my younger sister so I had no chance of cheating. I imagine I might have.

In the periods of my fishing voyage when the fish were sparse and my patience low I dug into the words of Hunter S. Thompson. He is a genius. I can not imagine giving up my books. No matter how many people may be around in the depths of a great book there is solitude.

When busying myself in the outdoors the world of media rarely if ever enters my mind. When inside a home boredom soon sets in and I pray for ESPN. It seems so funny how the environment to which you place yourself in determines the need for media. I imagine that if there was lone teepee with a television in the Cherokee village it would be the emptiest teepee of all. Then again, maybe there would be a waiting list scribbled in the dirt to enter. This I highly doubt.

I will not likely repeat this mass media deprivation. I will use my computer less for meaningless surfing, mindless games, and pointless social networking. I will not miss a San Antonio Spurs game. Manu Ginobili can score forty points on any night.

The most enjoyable times spent in front of a television or computer do not hold a candle to those spent around a camp fire, in a kayak, or playing a pick up game of basketball. I rarely remember what the top ten plays of the day on Sports Center were the day before. I have never forgotten about any fish I have ever caught!