In a physical sense, I pulled the plug on what passes for contemporary ‘society’ by moving out here to Lamb Island, and never regretted it. I was rewarded with a low-key natural-ish environment instead of big-city ugliness, bay surroundings and trees instead of concrete and steel, peace and quiet instead of traffic and noise, laidback living instead of aggressive hustle-and-bustle, and a presence of my own choosing in a small casually friendly community instead of urban/suburban anonymity and/or angst.
Just on six kilometres as the crow flies from the mainland, this is another world. Okay, my partner and I still have to visit the mainland at times (although less frequently since Woolworths started home-delivering online orders here), but those mainland visits are a trade-off we can live with, even if it’s a culture shock to be reminded of the so-called ‘real world’ before we scurry back to our sanctuary where we can relax again, relatively insulated from an increasingly disappointing zeitgeist.
So by and large, our life’s pretty good out here. Except for one thing: television. Ironically, it was telecommunications that made it possible for us to live out here and work from home via the internet, but television’s a whole other story. By turning the television on, we bring the outside world into our living room to remind us of most of the crap we’re trying to ignore, and that brings us down.
But hey, the bay’s out there, a major factor in how we’ve been able to keep the world, um, at bay. And despite my environmental principles, I’m thinking it’s the perfect place for our television set.