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We are happily ignorant of all we don’t know. It amazes me how we can skate along, perfectly content and unaware of any deeper layer to the world in which we live, then - WHAM. It is like falling through ice. Shocking, cold. How could I not have known that something I thought I knew intimately could have a much more complex layer beneath?
Specifically, marketing. Let’s start there. I worked at a billion dollar bank as V.P. of Marketing. I was there 12 years. I learned a lot. We were one of the first banks to buy ad space on something called cable television. Can you imagine? I was present when the first facsimile machine was connected. This enabled us to send contracts to Boston nearly instantly...why, it took less than five minutes to transmit! My point is, there was a time I had a grasp on Marketing, in fact, was on the cutting edge. I attended a two-year Bank Marketing program in Colorado to hone my skills. And today? I spent two hours reading how to use social media in an integrated fashion in order to build a customer base. SEOs and IAs -- I still have not a clue what they might be. Niches, sectors, audiences -- where have they gone? While I move through the world at large, navigating from website to website, I have been oblivious to how incredibly manipulated I have been by social media. I was mistaken when I believed I was a little bit savvy. I have 53 apps on my iPhone. I have tried to stay relevant. I have friends who pull me along at times, “What does your Linked-In page look like?” one asked.
Yet, the strata below, the one we ignore or don’t know exists, can be hazardous. For example, I enjoyed movies more before my son became a filmmaker and taught me the basic elements of filmmaking. I see disturbing mistakes, in lighting, in sets, in continuity. I didn’t have a clue what went into colorizing a movie. Nope, for me, movies have changed forever. I watch medical shows and guffaw. I want to believe. I want to ignore that someone is performing surgery without a mask or that one hour after open-heart surgery someone is sitting up, conversing coherently, but life has taught me otherwise. I don’t want to remember the things I have seen behind the swinging doors in a restaurant. I want my adult children to be happy, healthy and safe. I do not, however, want to know every detail of the party they attended Saturday night. It all comes back to that aphorism that
“Ignorance is Bliss.”
It may not be bliss, but it does grant a certain degree of freedom, that can’t be denied.