The lovely young woman to my right barely sat down before popping up again to take a selfie.
She was giddy to post the moment for the immediate world, and it was hard to fault her. Her dress was flowing, her hair was pulled up in a sleek Bardot-esque 'do, and we had great seats at the stunningly renovated Northrop, where Les Ballets Jazz de Montreal was about to perform.
I, on the other hand, couldn't shut off my cellphone, and the immediate world, fast enough. If the kids burned the house down, they'd have to wait two hours to tell us what they were able to rescue, and I would hope that the dog was included.
I've been thinking about personal privacy a lot lately, and how hard it is to attain, even if you really, really want to.
I'm the person praying that the video camera doesn't find me at a Lynx or Twins game, waiting for me to show my moves or act lusty for the Kiss Cam.
Pleeeease, noooooo!
I'm the person who wants to shout "Shhh!" when the doctor's assistant announces my full name to the entire waiting room. Hello, HIPAA?
My heart skips a beat when I learn that a photo of me has been shared on Facebook. Huh? Who shared that photo of me chewing on a barbecue rib?