See with my own eyes...

My Life on the Road

by Gloria Steinem

October 2015

....

I'm headed to the airport for the third time in a week, trying to hail a taxi in the pouring rain. When a driver finally picks me up, I'm in no mood to talk to this scruffy white kid in his twenties.  The only personal thing I see is a drawing of a gigantic eye propped up on the front seat next to him.  I suppressed my curiosity.

After a long time of quiet, he asks me what I do.  I offer just three words -- I'm a writer -- hoping brevity won't invite conversation. 

"Then I wouldn't know you," he says seriously, "because I don't read."

Assuming he's a smart-ass, I don't answer.  "I also don't watch TV," he goes on. "I don't look at the Internet or read newspapers or books or play video games.  I haven't done any of those things in almost a year.  I don't want anything to interpret the world for me.  I am mainlining life."

My resolve is slipping...  Finally, I can no longer resist asking this guy why he is shutting out all the usual signals.  It turns out that driving a taxi is just part of a year he's planned, working his way cross-country, doing odd jobs like repairing cars and picking fruit to support himself, all the while going cold turkey on media.  He is seeing America without being told first what he's seeing.

"You see?" he says seriously as we pull into LaGuardia, "This is what happens with no filters."

Instead of a tip, he asks for a bargain.  "Write about my experiment," he says.  "Explain that you met this recovering media addict who used to dream about people in movies instead of real people.  I never read a book unless some reviewer told me to.  I was such a news junkie, I went to sleep with my headset on.  I had media-itis, but now I'm trying to see life unmediated. 

"I've been clean for eight months," he says seriously. "I'm just beginning to believe I exist."

Finally I ask about that drawing of a huge eye.  "My girl-friend made that," he says, "to remind me to see with my own eyes."

....