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For the second week in a row, I have seen the beginning of the end while I was sitting in church and it wasn’t a vision of the rapture.  It’s not that kind of church.

About half an hour into church, an activity that I choose, I have found my mind wandering.

I used to think about what we were going to have for lunch.

Now I start jonesing to check my phone.  Facebook.  Email.  Smurf Village.  Anything.

What is wrong with me?

In that half an hour I have sat, stood, kneeled and sat again.  Blood is flowing through my brain.  I have listened, spoken, and listened again.  A half an hour of church is more interactive than half an hour in front of the television.

In the second half an hour I will have the chance to drink, chew, and shake hands with my neighbors.  So why am I more interested in my virtual Smurf community than in the flesh and blood community in front of me?  Has my brain turned to the mush my mother predicted all those years ago as I watched  cartoons?

Then, in addition to jonesing for my phone, I began to panic.  If I, a middle-aged woman who did not grow up with this mind-candy, cannot make it through more than half an hour of a an activity that I chose without needing to tune in to my device, how the younger generation survive?

As soon as I get back to my phone, I’m going to use my notes app to make a list for my fallout shelter because civilization is going to end.

If only we can pay attention long enough to notice….

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