There are so many methods of transportation.
You have your own two feet, which for many of us is turning out to be a way to go for getting out of the house or apartment. You have bicycles which have been known for efficiency, and you have cars, a mainstay of American living.
You also have planes and trains, which have certainly not fared well in the current predicament.
And then there are cruise lines.
But the methods of connecting places together to allow transportation are just as numerous. We have bridges, which are communal, public, static, and they allow for a massive volume of people to go back and forth along them.
Then there’s the gondola, which is an eccentric way to travel, and usually reserved as a scenic tour on the way up slopes for skiing, or for connecting an amusement park to its exhibits.
But while the bridge has been closed off because it is TOO successful in what it does, we suddenly find ourselves on the inside looking out. The world of the digital space is passing us by, and we are still, slowed almost to a halt. We wouldn’t know we’re moving if it we didn’t look down and see the closest branches and trees ebbing past.
Now the gondola has turned out to be a godsend, its sterile and closed off environment a gift to us. I find myself running to the public intellectuals I want to hear, and I have made it through their new twitter posts, their new podcasts, and their New York Times recommendations in mere moments, and I realize that I am still on the gondola.
But maybe instead of saying that I am stuck in the gondola, I should praise its benefits more readily. This new era we’re in will be here for a while, and enjoying the ride is difficult when we don’t know where the gondola is even headed, but I am still in it with the people I love, and we have some conversations that had been lying dormant for a long time.
Now is the time to have those conversations.