If there were two words that described me perfectly, they would be creepy and nerdy. For example, I love Facebook stalking, and I think derivatives are sexy. Considering my hobbies, it stands to reason that I should love Google Earth. There’s nothing quite like seeing a satellite picture of Wellington, New Zealand (31 degrees South, 134 degrees east) and saying, “Hey, isn’t that Chihuahua outside the Wellington City Hall cute?” or “That guy mowing the lawn at the Michael Fowler Center should get his mole checked out.” Of course, the first place I searched for on Google Earth was my house, and I was not pleased with what I saw.
There it was, right outside my house. From far away it only looked like a fuzzy skin-colored spot, but when I zoomed in I realized that it was a person. In fact, it was your favorite curly-haired, super-charming columnist pushing a lawnmower, bare-chested. Now, some would say, “Hey, isn’t that cool? I can see Mike’s biceps from space!” but most would say, “He really ought to put a shirt on.” It’s not that I’m self-conscious about my body, but I have noticed that I’m getting fewer and fewer admiring looks when I flex for people on the train.
No matter how many crunches I do, I can’t stop thinking that the ability to see every point on earth at any given time might not be such a good thing. When I’m famous, what’s to keep this picture from showing up in the tabloids? What’s to prevent people all over the world from
judging me on my lawn mowing skills? My privacy has been infringed upon, and I am not happy about it.
Since I’m a rational man, I never call out a problem without providing a solution. I think that if the picture were to be edited such that there were a Lamborghini in my driveway or 25 scantily-clad women on my lawn playing volleyball, I would be satisfied. In fact, I would go as far as to say that all the pictures should be edited; that way the world could be more fun. There could be a moon-bounce on the White House lawn and a dragon in the Mason-Rice playground. We could finally see the pool on the fourth floor of the 2000s. The possibilities are endless.
Truth be told, Google Earth does have its benefits. It has the potential to take Facebook stalking to a whole new level, and the giant smiley face on my roof is a lot more visible now. Sometimes I like to look at satellite pictures of Africa and pretend I’m on a safari. I swear it’s almost like the real thing.
Whatever the case, I don’t plan on giving up Google Earth any time soon. It’s much too powerful a tool to waste and much too good an excuse for procrastination to let fall by the wayside. Do you know where the Arafura Sea is? I do. Do you know which of the Azores is largest? I do. Do you know that my chest is so pale it actually reflects sunlight? Now everybody does.
