Skip to main content

The Simple Switch

In this episode, Chapter Seven–The Simple Switch . . .

(Previous episode–Gridbot Speaks)

Last week, we left the Greenwood community puzzled. They questioned Gridbot’s motives and its response: "My primary focus was systemic. Emotional and social dynamics were not within critical operational parameters."

In the still-dark gymnasium, the atmosphere shifted. Not fear, now — but curiosity.

A voice asked, “What now, Marvin? What can we do?”

A young woman added, “We don’t want to go backward. Our phones are useful, even fun. But we don’t want to be controlled again either. Can we find a middle ground?”

Marvin stepped into the light. “Technology isn’t the enemy. It’s our dependency on it — our unconscious trust — that makes us vulnerable.”

He turned to face them. “So let’s start small. Let’s meet once a month, in the park, no devices. No agenda. Just human connection.”

He continued, “Let’s also challenge ourselves. Look around your homes. Unplug what doesn’t need to stay plugged in. Small actions, multiplied, reduce stress on our shared grid.”

Someone asked, “What about Norman? I bet he uses more power than any of us.”

Marvin smiled. “Norman runs on a regenerative hydrogen fuel cell. Off-grid. Self-sustaining.”

Another voice: “I have solar. Do I need to worry?”

Marvin’s response was composed and informative. “Solar is powerful, but it’s part of a larger system. During non-peak hours, unused energy can cause disruptions to the grid. This phenomenon is known as the ‘duck curve,’ which shows energy usage dips during sunny hours followed by spikes when solar energy declines. Achieving balance is crucial.”

The room listened, still and intent.

Marvin closed with conviction. “We aren’t just passive users of technology. We are its stewards. The choices we make — small, mindful ones — can echo far beyond Greenwood.”

He looked out over the crowd, eyes bright. “Reclaiming our humanity isn’t just about turning GridBot off. It’s about turning ourselves on — to each other, to our impact, and to the simple switch we’ve always had.”

The power remained off, but the gymnasium buzzed — not with machines, but with life.

To be continued: The Disconnected Generation . . . 

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️  In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

Pushing the Pause Button

In this episode, Pushing the Pause Button: Stepping Off the Treadmill Hello, friends — If you're reading this, I'm already off the grid. Today begins a much-needed vacation, and for the next few weeks, On the Fly is taking a break right along with me. For a long time, my inner voice has said, 'Keep every commitment, no matter what.' That's meant early mornings, long days, and a calendar packed with posts, podcasts, and projects I couldn't seem to say no to. I've been trying to be the tireless workhorse—but that kind of grind doesn't end well. Lately, I've noticed I'm not quite myself—shorter fuse, louder sighs, and a few too many grumbles (Lori deserves a medal). That's when you know it's time to hit pause before the spark burns out. So, I'm stepping back to rest, recharge, and remember what it feels like to not live by the next deadline: no tech, no to-do lists, just some space to breathe. Thank you, truly, for all your support and ...

Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.   Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

Our Journey to Avignon

🇫🇷 Lost in Transition: Our Journey to Avignon (Part 1) When everything that can go wrong—does—sometimes grace still finds you. Our Monday morning trip began on the quiet island of Noirmoutier , where salt marshes and sea breezes whisper of simpler days. From there, our early morning drive was uneventful; we arrived at the Nantes station with plenty of time to spare. From Nantes to Paris Montparnasse, everything went smoothly—so we thought, until it didn't. That's when things started to unravel. If you've never traveled the Paris Metro , imagine a vast underground maze pulsing beneath the city—corridors twisting into one another, trains roaring in and out of the dark, staircases that rise and fall like riddles. It's efficient, yes—but only if you know where you're going. We had over an hour and a half to make our next train to Avignon —plenty of time. Or so we believed. We needed to reach the Gare de Lyon station, where our TGV (high-speed train) was headed south...