Of course, after I kept my mouth shut for just so long, the cork would pop and everything would spill out.
After the children were all grown and gone, I moved into a bachelor apartment, and tried to stay to myself. The old demon returned, however, and I ended up telling my secrets to the lady in Apartment 30. It didn’t take long for me to realize what a mistake I had made – my private information had been spread all over our apartment complex.
The worst part of the breach of confidence was her embellishments. For example, I had told her I spent one night in juvenile detention, and that was translated into ex-con. You get the picture.
You would think I had learned my lesson.
After spending 13 years in the same apartment, I moved out for about a year or so. While I was gone, I wrote a couple of letters to the lady in Apartment 69. ARE YOU CRAZY – DID YOU LEARN NOTHING!
Apparently not. When I got back, the lady in Apartment 69 had spread all my news quite thoroughly.
I tell you that story so I can tell you this one.
Last Friday and Saturday, I helped a lady in a nearby apartment with her computer. It was really messed up, and it took me quite some time to dis-infect. The lady had a unique name, and cleaning her machine was also a unique experience. I wanted to blog about it, using her name.
CONCLUSION: The lady with the broken computer has learned what my mother tried to teach me – “Don’t tell all you know!”
I think her reaction has gone just a little bit further, however. I think the general mistrust we all have for government and our neighbors is escalating. Not knowing who to trust, we trust no one.
That is sad.