Enjoy this excerpt from "Disconnected," an essay about the world in which I grew up and the world as I see it now. Thank you for reading.

I grew up in a small town, in an era without the Internet, social media, or cell phones. And back then, boy, those were some splendid times indeed. My neighborhood rewarded me with all the simple pleasures a kid could possibly imagine, and those pleasures can be encapsulated in one word: freedom—a freedom that instilled in me the necessary tools to prosper: individuality, free-thinking, curiosity about life and the world and those who inhabit it. Without having to dig too deeply into memories of my youth, I can easily recall, for example, exploring the woods, building shoddy tree forts, walking through the seemingly endless natural mazes of trees and vines and woody terrain—in rain and snow and on scorching summer days—and coming home with scratches and bruises on any areas of my body that had been roughened by branches and whatever else I had recklessly meandered through; I came home captivated—proud, even—by what I had seen, done, experienced, absorbed. Those scars made me and my friends, both male and female, rugged, mentally and physically, not to mention eager for adventures galore. In the ’70s and ’80s, life had no shortage of stimuli. We were never bored. We were the antithesis: active, thriving, easily stimulated. Hanging out and conversing with friends (really talking, folks, having none of modern-day’s ubiquitous distractions), listening to music, watching movies and television shows, playing Kick the Can, Tag, Kickball, roaming the neighborhood and improvising our own amusement—these where just some of the ways in which bonds were formed and galvanized, in which minds and bodies were prevented from becoming too “soft,” and in which imaginations and intellects flourished. And when conflicts arose—and they most certainly did among flawed, hyperactive youths—we worked them out in short order, the majority of the time without any dependency on parental guidance or teachers, coming up with and implementing our own solutions. The trials and tribulations of the early years, the hardships and the triumphs—there were plenty of both—spring-boarded us into adulthood, all of us having garnered throughout the journey a stronger set of values, priorities, and principles, as well as burgeoning energy and an appreciation of lessons learned—the hard way.