Why do I want to know that a bicyclist was killed by a hit and run driver way up north in the state somewhere, some place that may as well be Mars for all it has to do with me?
Shouldn’t the news delivered to my phone via text be something more urgent, more relevant like, “nuclear bomb just dropped in Los Angeles” or “meteor headed to earth in about an hour,” something more significant, enough to sound the incoming text alarm and make me look?
A bicyclist down hundreds of miles away.
Well, no doubt it’s a shame, and I can go there with my heart and my mind, that place of family grief and loss, and I can make it my own, especially now that I have a more specific piece of death than people dying everywhere every minute.
But it’s still too far for me to muster up the feels, the agony of killing me pain in the heart over losing someone I love.
Why do I want to be there when I don’t have to be?
And this is how we operate 9 times out of 10 of any given day.