In today’s world, we have so many tools to communicate with each other. Does it make life easier? Yes. Does it make life tougher? Yes. Let’s sit back and think for a minute. We now communicate in person, by phone, text, chat, social media, and other ways. It’s not unusual to be sitting at your desk, whether it is in your kitchen or an office somewhere in the city, focusing on your assignment, as emails fly across your screen, your phone buzzes with countless texts, and people are contacting you on Facebook’s and LinkedIn’s messaging services. Does it make it easier? It can. Does it make it rougher? It can.
Many people get jittery as they enter the final stages of a project. As you’re launching it on your website, social media feeds, and to the media, you want it to be perfect. Once it’s been decided that the documents, graphics, etc., are final, the push begins. As you’re uploading to your project management software to start the distribution process, it’s often when it can get chaotic.
I like to remain focused, sit at my laptop, plug away, and be zoned in only on the project at hand. Too many times, it’s at that time when everyone decides to weigh in once again. My Outlook account is full of emails. Thanks to today’s technology, you can see them jumping out at you. My phone goes crazy with countless texts. Then there are the people who decide to message you on LinkedIn or Facebook. Or use Slack or Snap. Does this help you? Yes and No. But in many cases, that’s what creates confusion and leads to mistakes. I have been telling people at the final stages of the project, let’s use one stage of communication. I prefer email. I make sure to tell people to remember to hit reply all. Most of the time, this works. It keeps people focused.
No, I am not talking about Aretha Franklin’s tune. Years ago, I worked for someone who, when it came to politeness and respect for others, had it down to a science. I remember in elevators, he would always wait for everyone to exit, especially the women. He held the doors for everyone and helped people with their coats and into their chairs.
I haven’t heard from him in a few years. But I doubt things have changed. His dad, who is long gone, was similar. There was a great scout leader who passed away a few years ago; he was an example of respect, particularly toward our campgrounds. We’d walk around the camps, and whenever he saw garbage, he’d pick it up off the trails. He’d be upset it was there. He taught us to keep our sites clean, and when we saw trash, we cleaned it up and disposed of it properly.
I try to follow their steps. But I have found that in today’s world, simple respect is gone. A few weeks ago, I was entering the gym. It was pouring outside. I saw a person dragging their heavy gym bag at the door and trying to exit. I held the door for her. She stood there for the next several minutes texting away. This has happened a few times—the same thing in elevators and at the doors of our office buildings.
Cell phone addiction has cramped respect. People are too interested in seeing their friends’ latest memes or social media posts. But I think it was happening slightly before people’s best friends became their iPhones. The trails of the places I hike are getting dirtier, and less people are wiping down machines in the gym after they finish using them. The list goes on.
More respect equals better productivity. People will likely be more motivated and happier.
About a month ago, I came back from a tour of Sicily. I was there for about two weeks. I did start my tour solo, as I arrived a few days before the tour officially kicked off. I saw a lot before I met my new “family.”
I went to the conference room in my Palermo hotel, and we walked over to a nice restaurant. I sat with some people that I wound up eating with several more times. I was solo. There was one other solo traveler. I was the tour photographer. I wasn’t hired for it. It’s just that I was one of only two out of 45 people shooting with a traditional camera v. a mobile device. I was using a Nikon Mirrorless 7.
Ruins
Sicily is beautiful, I became friends with nearly everyone. Of course, the people originally from Brooklyn and the Bronx were the best. Most people recognized I was from Brooklyn as soon as I started talking. That makes me proud. No other place has the Cyclone, the original Nathan’s, the Brooklyn Museum, and fantastic pizza. Sicily’s pizza is better. Way better. For the record, so is Milan’s.
Pizza made by me
Everyone on the tour was excellent. Yeah, we had some people that I thought were children of the corn. But we all got along and had a great time. We had a WhatsApp group during the tour run by our guide. She was the only one allowed to post.
Most people wanted to see each other’s photos. Someone made a WhatsApp group for us to use once we got home and went through our shots. It took me a few days to edit with Photoshop. But I posted as I edited. For the next few weeks, we swapped our photos and memories. We all commented. I am happy to say people loved my images. We are in a new year and still chatting.
I look forward to my next tour. I hope I can make a new family.
Email has been mainstream in business since the 1990s. As we know, we now have too many other ways to communicate, including but not limited to social media and texting. Remember faxing? Or snail mail? Both are still in play.
As a chair of a community organization and a volunteer in a few others, we generally communicate our business via email. Several of us who are friends often have our own discussions via chat. But all official business is done via email.
We have members who do not have email. They do not have computers. Some are senior citizens. But before we toss in the age factor, I have worked with people in their early 90s to create PowerPoints and run podcasts. They had no issues. Yes, I worked with people much younger who had no clue how to use email or other communication methods. So, age is just a number.
About two weeks ago, it snowed in New York City. It hampered some events. One started at 7:30 a.m. ET. The other was supposed to begin at 9 a.m. ET. We wound up combining our groups. This recent storm was not the first time we have had to take that course of action. It will not be the last. We early birds sat around, and the folks from the later-starting group wandered in. Both groups have their latecomers. Snow delayed some of them even further. A day or two later, I suggested that when we know the weather will not be good, we send an email and make a robocall to let people know we are combining. Several people blasted this idea, saying some people don’t have email, and others don’t want to be bothered by a robocall. I made the case that email has been in play for a long time and that the call was coming from a number we all know. It should not register as a potential spam call, as carriers like to say.
I know people who text to landlines. I still have one. The texts usually arrive in gibberish. As chair of my group, generally start meetings (which are traditionally on Zoom, that’s another issue), reminding people you need to text their cell phones. Some folks love Facebook Messenger. Unfortunately, they do not realize Messenger works on Facebook. Many don’t know that you cannot email Gmail or send SMS messages from Messenger. Don’t get me started on WhatsApp. I think it works great and has its place.
Before I was chair, I was corresponding secretary. I created a form for people to send me via email when they donate. I can take their contact information off it and generate thank-you notes to distribute via email and traditional mail. It is still lovely to receive a personal, warm thank-you note in the mail. One of my chairs used to mail me handwritten notes with donor information. Sometimes he would wait weeks, and I’d get an envelope with 30 or 40 scraps of paper with contact information. This issue severely hampered our program.
The question has always lingered in my mind: What to do? I continue to use email and will call people. But the question will always linger on how to reach everyone.
Jay was still shooting glass at the infants. Marc and Alana were providing cover and taking the hits. It didn’t hurt. Thankfully, most people were stuffing themselves with bagels and lox. No one noticed the kids were under attack. Everyone was too busy eating.
Marc and Alana looked at each other. They knew one of them had to socialize with their family and friends. They both should be doing that. They should be sitting proudly with their beautiful children. Of course, that wasn’t the case. Dispatched to the crowd after losing rock, paper, scissors, Marc began chatting with his and Alana’s parents. They wished the two would wed. But they knew that’d never occur.
Alana turned around for a second to scout out the room. She was ready to unleash wine. As she turned back around, she saw the kids smiling and watched their eyes blink like crazy. She heard them breathing a little heavier. Suddenly, Sarah rolled over and turned into a serpent. She slithers over to Jay and is about to unleash her venom. David Benjamin turned into a whale. The twins in their new forms looked at each other. They then stared Jay down. He flung glass at them. Sarah whipped it back at him, while David Benjamin opened his mouth, displaying his sharp teeth. Jay tried to retreat. Tried he did. David Benjamin whipped his small but powerful tail around and smacked him in the head. At the same time, Sarah released venom into Jay’s leg. Jay hobbled out of the shul. Alana stood in awe of her kids. She needed to show Marc the video she just shot on her iPhone. But first, she had to wait for the kids to turn back into cute little infants.
Some of us remember the phrase, “All politics is local,” used by former House Speaker Tip O’Neill throughout his career. His dad reminded him of that in the ‘30s, after he lost his first election while running for a seat on the Cambridge City Council. He took his own neighborhood for granted. It has been said to be a great learning experience for him. For me, too.
Let’s jump out of politics and go to PR. Trust me, as a long-time practitioner who started in NYC’s government, the profession has its politics. The key thing to remember is that all good PR is local. It is the best way to build. We will jump from Staten Island, New York, to Edison, New Jersey, other parts of the USA, and end in Sicily, Italy.
Fresh out of college and while in grad school, I started volunteering on local and city-wide political campaigns in NYC. I landed my first job as a staff member in NYC, moved on to the mayor’s office, and then went into the private sector. I watched each candidate and elected official fight it out and reach an agreement on local issues. It could have been infrastructure, for example, which district would get money for new sanitary and storm sewers or better bus routes.
After leaving politics and joining a tech PR firm, I represented the former Consumer Electronics Manufacturing Association (CEMA), now the Consumer Electronics Association (CEA). I was involved with this great organization for many years, both representing them and sponsoring their press room.
Composed of leading electronics makers, such as Bose, Panasonic, and Sony, which, along with others, made great audio equipment for cars. There was a time before you used SiriusXM or your iPhone to get your music in your vehicle. You pumped up your Caddy, Jeep, Nissan, Ram, Vette, Toyota, etc., with great speakers and cassette players. Then we moved onto CD players and theater systems in the cars. The car audio market was huge.
We sent local car audio experts across the country to explain why you should upgrade your vehicle with their equipment rather than rely on the dealer models. Our spokespersons traveled to top and secondary cities and did local newspaper, radio, and TV interviews. They popped into the local auto shows.
I remember when we had high-end cars with great sound systems and a spokesperson lined up outside of CBS’s studio in NYC. The story went national.
Years later, I worked for Vonage, the company that brought internet telephony to consumers. We first launched local area codes in NYC and Edison, New Jersey. One of my roles was to write the press releases when we launched in new locales. I wanted to interest the local writers. Sadly, in today’s world, many of those great folks are gone.
Vonage Device
Having watched some companies launch locally by saying, “We are now in Dallas, New Orleans, or San Diego…” I tailored the copy to make it sound like we were part of those cities. As soon as the releases crossed Business Wire and I personally emailed them to local reporters, we got coverage. Even better, retailers called and asked if they could sell our products in their stores. Civilians called to ask whether we were opening a store in their neighborhood and where to send their resumes. The service was sold online, for the most part. But we did sell the devices that connected to the service in local and chain electronics stores. So, we did our local thing, which may have helped local stores increase their revenue and the number of people in the workforce.
Jumping to marketing tactics in Sicily. I recently returned from Sicily. I highly recommend it. The sites, people, food, and drink are incredible. During my tour, I was fortunate enough to visit Savoca, where Francis Ford Coppola filmed several scenes from “The Godfather.”
While walking to the church where Michael Corleone and Appolonia wed, I saw a great local marketing tactic put into play by my local guide, a wonderful woman of British and Sicilian ancestry. She joined us for three days. Her intimate local knowledge was incredible. But her skills in helping people in small towns stood above it all.
As we walked to the church where Michael Corleone and Appolonia wed, we passed Dioniso, a great little store selling olive oils, spices, wines, and other great stuff. The store was not supposed to be open when we were touring Savoca. Our guide texted the owner and let him know she was bringing a crew of 45 people through town, and he might want to open. As we approached the store, we saw him opening the shop. She introduced us, and we did tastings and bought numerous items. He probably stayed open for just about an hour. He made many sales. Again, local marketing. Tell them we are coming and let them open; they will succeed.
Olive Oil from Dioniso
I remember so many calls from national reporters, particularly from the Associated Press or The Wall Street Journal, calling or emailing about things they read in the local news about the companies I worked for. I have seen this with social media. I run several sites for local organizations. We get thousands of visitors. Viewers of our work have increased donations of memorabilia and money, as well as visits to our location. Bottom line: start local and remember it will lead to growth.
You can be Isolated and in the Midst of It All – Get the Balance Right
By Mitchell Slepian
World’s Fair Globe, Flushing Meadows–Corona Park
No, I am not writing about Ol’ Blue Eyes. Or quoting from Depeche Mode. (But I do want to hear his version of “New York, New York” played after every game at Yankee Stadium during 2026). The Big Apple is one of the world’s most photogenic cities. Yes, there are plenty of others, for example, Belfast, Jerusalem, Moscow, Milan, Reykjavik and Tel Aviv. What I love about New York City is that nowhere else can you find Broadway, the Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island, the East and Hudson Rivers, the Staten Island Ferry, Yankee Stadium, and the World’s Fair Globe. And more. Much more.
Cell Tower Outside Brooklyn Botanic Garden
New York offers places where you can feel the big-city madness. Or areas where you can feel the quiet and almost feel isolation. When I say isolation, I do not mean the Joy Division tune. I am thinking about being at the Brooklyn (BBG) or New York Botanic Gardens, William H. Pouch Scout Camp, or just being in your own world while cruising along Museum Mile. NYC offers isolation and madness.
The Vessel at Hudson Yards
The joy of being in the “isolation”(Joy Division was running through my head) of NYC, or let’s be honest, any other major city, is the things that pop up on your travels. As I was walking through the Fall Harbor Fest at BBG, I looked up and saw a cell tower. A few feet away, I watched a squirrel around some dying flowers. It’s that time of year. Next to the flowers was a trash can. I remember seeing cell towers driving through Death Valley and along the Italian lakes.
Let’s face they are everywhere. We cannot survive without our Wi-Fi. In many ways, seeing them and the trash cans keeps it in perspective. You can enjoy your isolation or privacy. But know you are when you are in the middle of beautiful gardens or national parks and communing with nature, you can easily text your friends, check the baseball scores, or listen to Depeche Mode on Apple Music on your iPhone. And toss out your trash. NYC provides the perfect place to do it all. It’s just important to remember to stay balanced in your adventures and take it all in.
I am not writing about Peter Gabriel, who wrote the hit “In Your Eyes,” or U2, whose hit “With or Without You” broke them into the major leagues of music. They were there well before that tune. Think of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” or their debut, “Stories for Boys.” Like Paul Simon, I have a Nikon camera and love to take photographs. I do have a Kodak Instamatic X-15. So, a Kodachrome, I can deal with. I bought it last summer at a street fair at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. This camera was introduced in 1963. By 1970, it had sold several million. Probably similar to the number of albums sold by Genesis, Gabriel’s solo work when he departed Genesis, and certainly U2. The man I bought it from told me it works. The other day, I was in B&H, and they told me they have film for it. I need to check the camera and see what I need. Remember film? In camp, my Assistant Scoutmaster Larry had a Polaroid. We took tons of shots that printed as they popped out of the camera.
But this story is not about cameras. But more about seeing things with your eyes. One of my closest friends is an eye doctor and a great swimmer (his swimming hole required excellent vision). Many of you have seen my photos. I share them via email and Instagram, and occasionally LinkedIn. I hope you enjoy what I have included.
New York Botanical Garden
Now, about seeing stuff in your eyes. I often spend weekends shooting photos at the Brooklyn or the New York Botanical Gardens, the South Street Seaport, and Museum Mile. Then, there are the days I go to one of the holiest places, Ten Mile River Scout Camps. It is a photographer’s paradise.
A few days ago, I saw the Psychedelic Furs at the Brooklyn Paramount. Before meeting a pal at the Original Junior’s Cheesecake (it’s across the street from the venue) for dinner before the show, I saw the Monet in Venice Exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum. Amazing. I had about two hours before what should have been a few subway stops away to Junior’s. So, I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, which is next to the Brooklyn Museum. Oh, as for what should have been, blame the MTA for making it several more stops and three different trains—life as a New Yorker.
New York Botanical Garden
I strolled the garden without my Nikon. I kept my iPhone in my pocket. I took in the beauty of the gardens with my eyes. It was incredible. I was just so amazed to look at the flowers with my eyes and not through a viewfinder with my thumb and index finger playing with the ISO and F stop. Or clicking away and texting images of the fountain. At this point in the season, many of the flowers are dying. That’s more of a song from The Cure. But there probably isn’t a better songwriter than Robert Smith. The Cure saved me. I am sure they have saved others. The gardens were magical. I thought a little more about what I was seeing. I wasn’t thinking about lighting and what I’d be doing with the images in Creative Cloud. It was simple. These days simplicity is missing.
This experience only makes me think, I need to go back to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and other places with less equipment. Of course, the shots I take make many people smile and create great conversations. Balance is what I need.
Memories of Lazy Weekend Reading with the Newspaper
By Mitchell Slepian
My mom sometimes said, my dad was married to his New York Times (NYT). My parents divorced before I was a teen. I often spent weekends with him. I have distinct memories in the mid-to-late 70s of my dad reading his Sunday newspaper and, of course, reading his copy of the daily paper on his NYC subway train from Sheepshead Bay into Bloomingdales when he was a manager of its finance department.
In 1978, a great year (the Yankees repeated their World Series title), dad, mom, my sister and me left Brooklyn for an exotic place – Staten Island. Dad now had a much longer commute to work. He took his paper on the bus or the Staten Island Ferry.
“You can read it in the Sunday papers. Sunday papers.” We know Joe Jackson was criticizing the British tabloid press when he wrote “Sunday Papers” for his debut album “Look Sharp.” Much of it rings true. But I wanna talk about the Sunday papers in a different mode. I know most people get their news from their phones. I do love Apple News. But there is something about having the old-fashioned newspaper in your hands. I still get a Sunday paper. My mom taught me to read it by placing it on a beach towel on the kitchen table. She said you’d save our and eventually your table from ink stains. The stains that got on my hands that’s what the sink is for.
My memories of the Print Edition
Some of us are old enough to remember the old school weekend NYT. It had tons of thick special sections that were delivered on Saturday. The Arts & Leisure section had information about what was happening in NYC’s museums and elsewhere. Often, you’d see how if you went to one at a certain time you got in for half price or got a free something. My dad clipped out all of this, and on Sunday, we went to Museum Mile and other spots. I have an older cousin whose dad did similar, I loved the museums. My cousin hated them. I’m a member of nearly every museum in NYC. Years later, when both of us were laid off, I spent my time at the Guggenheim, Whitney, Tenement Museum, and others. I always asked my cousin to join me. He would never.
At home on Staten Island, we got our daily delivery of the Staten Island Advance (Advance). I read it. I loved reading Moss Klein’s stories in the sports section about my beloved Bronx Bombers. My first job was in politics, serving as a press secretary for a local NYC Council Member. I pitched our news releases to the Advance and was friendly with several reporters. My sister another newspaper reader became a reporter at the Advance. I was long gone from politics when she was employed at the paper, so we never worked together. That would have been interesting.
When I was a kid, my grandparents would come over from Sheepshead Bay for Sunday afternoon barbeques. We had the NYT and Advance on the table. As we were getting ready for our hot dogs and burgers, grandpa would read both. He usually read the New York Post or New York Daily News at home. In the metro section of the NYT, he always looked for stories about Staten Island. It was funny. That never happened. That’s why Staten Islanders swore by the Advance.
Eventually in the late 90s, I moved out and started buying my Sunday papers. I started in Rego Park and came back to Staten Island. I read all the dailies, the New York Daily News, the New York Post, and my eventual favorite of the bunch, The Wall Street Journal (WSJ). I would buy them before boarding the Subway or Staten Island Ferry. That’s when they sold papers all over. It was before you woke up, and your iPhone was buzzing like a madman with the latest from Apple News, social media, and Snaps from your friends, about, as Depeche Mode would put it, “the world we live in and life in general.”
I enjoyed reading the papers on the commute to and from work. Of course, the news in the morning wasn’t any different than the news on the ride home. I just read a different paper. So, the only differences could have been the opinions of the writers. Nothing was updated from the morning to the evening. We sometimes had the radio or news channels on at work. So, we followed Wall Street and breaking news with the available technology to the best of our abilities.
On my ferry rides, I often sat with a group of friends on the a.m. commute into the city. We discussed the latest news. Most of us had a paper. Usually, our conversations focused on the Yankees. We did discuss politics and movies. We compared the opinions of the writers in the different papers.
When I was back on Staten Island, my sister got an apartment in the same building complex as mine. On weekends, I would read my copy of the NYT and walk over to her building, throw it at her door, and scream out, “Mr. Flintstone.” During the holiday season, I put a card into the paper and begged for a tip. She gave me a dollar. It was so sweet of her.
As you have realized, I love baseball. I remember sitting at my table reading the NYT, which we know is not known for having a great sports section. I read its feature about the orthopedic surgeon Dr. James Andrews (now retired). You got nervous when you heard your favorite athlete was going to see him. You knew he was down for the count. The article gave an in-depth feature about how he evaluated and treated the athletes. It was a great learning experience. Holding the paper in my hands and reading about baseball feels more real than scrolling through my phone or tablet.
The Arts & Leisure section of the NYT offered similar. When “Wicked” was still starring Kristin Chenoweth and Idina Menzel, it did a terrific feature about how the two Tony winners were brought up and how they began their storied acting careers. Jumping ahead to the WSJ’s Off-Duty section, Lettie Teague’s weekly wine column offers great advice on what to sip, buy, and order. The paper’s magazine sectionoften has beautiful watches. I want all of them. Sometimes, I get ‘em.
One more memory of dad and his paper. All the Sunday papers had many circulars featuring coupons of the latest sales at the drug store, supermarket, local clothing stores and restaurants. My dad called them “couponys.” He used to sit and clip them out. He stored them in an index card holder and had a filing system. He was one of those people, who would walk up to the register in Waldbaum’s with more groceries than you can imagine and pay about $10.
I Began Having Newspaper Issues
I moved off the rock and went back to Queens. I transferred my weekend NYT subscription. Eventually, I switched to WSJ’s Weekend Journal. Pre-Covid, the paper used to be delivered to my apartment door. During the height of the lockdown and today, all the papers are in the lobby. We rarely had any problems. There was a pile of newspapers on the radiator. On Saturday morning, I would walk downstairs around 6 a.m. and take mine. The walks up and down the steps prepared me for the day. I would start reading. Sometimes, I would finish the main section and go to morning services or elsewhere— hopefully, Yankee Stadium. They returned to deliver the paper to my front door a few months ago. Then it went back to the lobby.
Most people I know stopped getting newspaper delivery or stopped buying them at newsstands. Many newsstands are only selling junk food. Several have closed. Just walk along NYC’s streets and you will see many locked-up newsstands. Most of the people I know, just get their news online.
Sadly, since the beginning of 2025 my WSJ stopped showing up. I go downstairs and see other papers. I have emailed and spoken to the WSJ’s customer care countless times. They keep promising to get it right. Occasionally the paper comes late Saturday night. It is still the weekend. But by that time, I do not want to read it. I have already seen everything on my phone. I like a Sunday paper. I enjoy being offline as much as possible on the weekend. Like most people, I am on too much. While disappointed to do this, I will likely cancel my Sunday paper.
This topic has been discussed before. I may add a new twist. Perhaps not. Hopefully, we all go on enjoyable vacations.
I’ve been to Israel, Ireland, Italy, and Iceland. You can see I like “I” countries. Toss in Austria, Czech Republic, England, Hungary, Germany, Russia, Spain, and a few islands. Most of the time, I travel solo. Last year, I went to Israel with my mom—her first time. I was the tour guide.
The first solo trip I took was to Aruba. As far as technology, I had my office’s BlackBerry. Remember those? The iPhone wasn’t invented yet. I only had a US connection. So, if I wanted to reach out to people at home in the States, I needed to go to hotel’s business center. I only went to it to check in for my return flight. It was great. I hung out on the beach, did a few dive trips, and sipped rum. I had no contact with the outside world. The only thing I ever really wanted to know was the Yankee scores. During my early travel days, they were winning it all. Please note I always blocked out October on my calendar to be home to watch post-season games at the Stadium or home.
I went to Italy with my mom and sister. I talk to my mom most. My sister, that’s another story. But she’s great. I had my trusted BlackBerry with only a US connection. In those days, international connections were pricey, and my office probably would not allow it. I went to Spain with mom. The bank in Barcelona ate her debit card. We needed to call the bank. Somehow, we got through. Other than that, we made no calls, texts, etc. It was a more civil time – social media just started, and people were not yet adapting.
Jump to Russia. I asked my boss if I could have an international connection. He said yes. They were worried about me being in Moscow. It is beautiful. The food sucked. I contacted no one.
Usually, when I travel, I make a small travel kit. I include my itinerary, receipts of all pre-paid fees and my flight information. When I went to Iceland, I made this kit. However, I forgot to include the flight information. So, I logged into my email account at the hotel’s business center and found it. Of course, I saw dozens of emails. I was dumb enough to open them and respond. That’s when it started. If I had my proper travel kit, I just would have gone to the airline’s website and checked in. That’s what I usually do. Once, when I was in Israel, I saw my email or Facebook account when I was checking into my return El Al flight. I was pleased when I had a message and friend request from someone. We chatted for a few minutes.
As my travels continued, I had my iPhone, and the international fees were reasonable. Add in WhatsApp and you could text and call at no cost. With my mom in Israel, we used it to keep in touch. We had plenty of time together. Thankfully, we had plenty of time to be independent. My mom had to call her elderly mom a few times. We used technology correctly. It was used when needed. I did similar on other trips to the Holy Land. I only used to make a few calls or texts to people I was meeting for dinner.
Of course, currently, social media is in full use by all. Sad. I took a few shots with my iPhone. I took most with my Nikon and had to wait for any posts until I got home and Photoshopped. I never post to any accounts while I am away. I’d rather stay quiet.
I spent my recent birthday in Ireland. Many called and texted to send birthday wishes. I thanked all. I got tons of greetings on social media. Like all places, I took a few iPhone shots. I sent those around via the various apps to my friends and family. I still checked the Yankees scores. It made no difference what they did. Friends were sending messages making fun of how poorly we were playing. I sat in Peadar O’Donnell’s, Derry, UK and sipped Smithwick’s or Baileys Irish Cream and heard great music. Using my iPhone; I was recapping my adventures with friends. I did similar at other pubs and other spots in Ireland.
I am exploring going to the safari in South Africa. If I go, I will have my 600mm zoom lens to take shots of Simba, Dumbo, and most importantly, giraffes. Will I chat and call friends and family? I don’t know. I would guess, probably, while simultaneously sending them a few snapshots. My phone won’t take the best images of the giraffes and lions. But a tease is ok.
Do I love technology on vacations? Or do I dream of the days when I had no connection to the outside world and just lived in the location I was touring? I do not know.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 