“He’s not online. Like, at all.”

I now know someone who does not use the internet. Seriously. Does. Not. Use. It. Lives without Google, without Z.E.E. (Zuckerberg’s Evil Empire), without the inclination to Tweet that which might be profound. Or profoundly banal.

Imagine this.

It is strange, isn’t it?

My first reaction was not a reaction. I did not care as this was not the way we met, communicated, or spent time. He does text and gets a substantial amount of joy from the photo text option on his moderate I.Q. cell phone. But, he does not emoticon. In fact, one of the first conversations we had involved his dread of the emoticon. I do not emote via icon to him. When I told one of my favorite people (ironically a friend from the halcyon days of MySpace…) about this, he said, “Cool.” Of course, we are not interneting so much ourselves these days, so that could explain it. Seems real life has become tantamount to us both. [Thank goodness for cell phones and G-chat. Hahaha.]

It made me think of another one of my favorite people, also an internet friend, though a local one, who said one time, “I don’t care what people say about Facebook. I don’t care what I say about Facebook. The fact of the matter is, if someone is not on Facebook these days, I don’t trust them. Why aren’t they on there? What is their deal?” [I think Zuckerberg just got a boner down in his undersized Silicon Valley digs.] Sometimes when I feel like the only place I get information is the Facebook, I agree. Other times, when I wish the only place I got information was not the Facebook, I beg… literally, beg, to differ.

I tell my students [frequently, repetition being the heart of education and all...] that I got my first collegiate degree without the internet. They cannot grok this. I try to explain how fascinating we thought it was that we could look up books, (you know, the kind with the pages that you turn, not scroll) on a computer at UCSD and we could see what books were on the shelves at all the other UCs. If we really wanted a book we could get it. Two days later off a van that drove around the interlibrary loans. That was the shit! They tilt their heads at me and look at me like a very interesting specimen when I tell them these stories. It is like reverse SciFi or something.

The internet is a strange place. But I like it –> “Boy, you sure are a funny kid, Johnny, but I like you! So tell me, what kind of a boy are you, John?” I have always been (and still am) fascinated by people who cultivate relationships on the internet, keep them on the internet, and call them IRL.  I am equally fascinated, like in the way you cannot stop looking at something so freakishly awkward, by the demise of these internet relationships. The fallout seems exponentially larger than a real life break up because these people involve their entire internet universes. It is very, very bizarre.

The other part about the internet that I like is its memory. Of course I would. I have a pretty dangerous memory myself. Recently, I was giggling about a confession that someone had posted about how she was showing her tits on Twitter for attention, not actually for breast cancer awareness. You.Don’t.Say. This same sad lady also publicly sold out her self-professed best friend for an internet bestie. And then there are the romances. That shit stays forever. And you know that is making people cringe. And in the seemingly endless range of the online universe, isn’t it strange how these relationships can overlap? Wow – now that is super awkward.

Anyhow. I was telling my non-line friend about some of this stuff last week. I was trying to explain why a friend of mine was so upset about a certain situation. And in telling the story, of the internet affair and its demise, I realized he was looking at me with his head tilted to the side wearing the exact same expression I see on my students when I talk about life before the internet. I tried harder to explain the situation, sure I was not being clear. But the more I explained it, the more ludicrous the entire thing started to sound.

Suddenly, I couldn’t make sense of a story, that admittedly was pretty far-fetched, but had always, in my mind, been somewhat of a linear narrative.

“But, they didn’t know each other?”
“Well, I mean, not at first. I mean, no. No, yes. Yes, they knew each other. But then they had to meet each other.”
“I don’t understand. Did they know each other, or didn’t they?”
“They met each other eventually. A few times. Or, well, at least once for sure.”
“So, they were like acquaintances.”
“I think they were in love.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Well. I don’t know…”

It did seem pretty silly standing there face to face with someone trying to explain this.

Now it was me who tilted my head to the side with an expression of curiosity to look at my non-line conversationalist. He looked pretty good. And it is no wonder… while the rest of the world is inside, connecting online, this boy is out riding his bike, surfing, running, sitting in the sunshine, and living. IRL.

“Cool.”