Fulfillment, Time, and 1979 Saturday

"Fulfillment."  Which used to only mean to me, "feeling satisfied and happy."  And now that I am in the business of selling my things, I know that it also means, "getting orders out to your customers."  (Which also makes me feel satisfied and happy.)  

But boy, it takes time.

Lots and lots of time.

In fact, one needs to import help . . . here, a husband.

And an ever-vigilant dog.

It is a wonderful "problem" to have.  Indeed, it is not a problem at all . . . but a fabulous new responsibility in time.

And time is quite the topic these days.

Holy cow.

What is going on?!?!?!

I'm getting the bends from the juxtaposition of my sticking the tiniest, baby-est of toes into the Twitter world for the first time, and sticking to my "1979 Saturday" guns of not using my cell phone or my computer all day and night on Saturday.  You go from one world -- where people are like day traders in information and communication, where if you log off between breakfast and coffee break, you have missed a continent-worth of  emphatically-written, 140-character bites -- to another world where, if you need to get directions, you roll down your car window and ask that nice-looking person walking his dog.  

Which is better?

I don't know.

But here is what I did in Saturday traffic last night, while driving from Beans' deliveries in San Francisco over to the East Bay to see friends . . . instead of getting on my cell phone to say, "There is traffic," or instead of texting or tweeting-while-driving (WHICH YOU SHOULD NEVER DO!)  "I'm stuck in traffic," I grabbed my camera and photographed what was around me,   

And it was a beautiful thing.

I got to my destination in the East Bay 10 minutes late.  Without calling anyone to say I was running late, and when I'd likely arrive, and where were they, and when would they be there? The friend I was meeting for dinner was a little late, herself.  AND IT WAS FINE!!!  No one died.  Nothing bad happened.  Amazingly, we managed JUST LIKE WE DID IN THE OLD DAYS . . . of, say, 1979.  

Which is exactly when we graduated from high school, and that was exactly what we were there to celebrate all together, in a bar in Benicia.  

What an amazing night.  To see folks you had crushes on, or hated, or worked together with for long hours on the drama productions or newspapers or on sports teams with -- 32 years after you all graduated.  To see everyone pull out their smart phones to show pictures of their "kids," most of whom are all older now than we were when we knew each other best.  To hear everyone say they are on Facebook.  To see all the grey hair, the wrinkles, and more:  that we have officially become our parents -- those folks we railed against when we were all young and much more elastic-skinned than we are now.

But I would not trade one second of any of it.  I love that I know what "the old days" were like, walking home from school with my best friend Diana . . . 

. . . and that today we both have jobs that have taught us to tweet.  Which we do need our glasses to read.  But hey, they look good.