Slowdown? These days slowdown has a negative connotation as it relates to the economy.
Homes on the market are moving slowly. Tourism has slowed because of budget crippling fuel prices. Entertainment has been set aside as the cost of daily necessities soars.
I just got home from a different sort of slowdown, and I use the word in the best possible sense.
Before gas prices broke three dollars per gallon, our family had already planned a month's vacation on a lake in a land far away, the land of my upbringing, Arkansas. Had we known how much gas would cost this summer for an SUV pulling a small ski boat eight hundred miles, we might have reconsidered.
Some things are better left unknown.
I found an adorable cottage in Hot Springs, Arkansas, on one of our favorite lakes, Lake Hamilton, at VRBO.com (vacation rentals by owners). It featured two tiny bedrooms, a closet-size bathroom, a struggling air conditioner and a kitchen overrun with ants. But, those were not the best parts.
The very best parts of our temporary abode on Lake Hamilton were the huge, waterside screened porch and its close proximity to the edge of the lake. Spitting distance. Oh, and all the friends and family who stopped in and stayed awhile.
The tiny cottage has no landline, spotty cell service, no internet, no local newspaper delivery and only a few satellite channels, which precluded even local TV news.
At first, a withdrawal sort of panic set it. We are as wired as the next family. My husband conducts most of his business by cell phone and email. We rely heavily on cell phones throughout the course of a typical day, as well as email, newspapers and TV news. Could we survive such...such....isolation?
Our wide eyes and racing hearts relaxed soon enough. I'd say within seventy-two hours the weight of a way-too-connected world melted from our shoulders and a special sort of euphoria ensued. No one could reach us. We could not reach anyone. We knew not of the world's goings-on. Neener, neener.
My husband would drive each morning to a resort nearby, sit in their lobby and access their wireless internet for the purpose of conducting business. He could also make cell phone calls from there. Sometimes he'd buy a local newspaper to bring back to the cottage.
As visitors arrived, I'd ask if anything was happening in the world outside of which we should be aware. During the entire month, only two news stories were related to me, the flooding Mississippi River and the death of a famous person, someone in the media, I think, whose name I cannot even now recall.
"That's it?" I would ask.
Visitors would concentrate briefly, try hard to relay big news, then shrug.
"Yep. Can't remember anything else."
Wow. This slowdown was working nicely.
All good things end. Besides, coming home after a long vacation, especially to Colorado, is a good thing in itself. Nothing like sleeping in one's own bed for the first time in over a month and sitting down to a regular meal at the regular time at one's own table.
Soon I will have sifted through more than four hundred emails, returned dozens of voicemail messages and sorted at least 1,000 pieces of snail mail. I should take heart, I suppose. Gone, maybe, but we definitely were not forgotten.