These days, everyone shares and discusses everything. Nothing is off limits. Nothing is sacred. Inquiring minds want to know everything, and people do not mind sharing.
I know all sorts of things I should not know about all sorts of people I do not know. It is all too much, I tell you.
Information about sexual preference, who is in surgery, who is in rehab, who is getting divorced, who is cheating on their spouse, who has the most money, who is in bankruptcy, who has an illegitimate child, who purchased the biggest house, quite frankly, is none of my business.
I prefer and choose to live in my father’s world, the world he created for himself and introduced to me so long ago.
His is the world I have embraced.
It is world where private things are not on display for all to see and read about on the nightly news or Facebook or Twitter or in a text.
It is a world where personal things are personal, where good judgment is foremost, where diplomacy and discernment rule the day, and where many things can be shared and discussed, but not all things.
American actress and silent film star Gloria Swanson had it right when she said: “When I die, my epitaph should read: She paid the bills. That’s the story of my private life.”
Alvia Lewis Frey is a columnist for the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.