Internet search giant Google proves difficult to ignore

By John Mark Eberhart

McClatchy Newspapers

I am a broken man – spirit crushed, confidence destroyed, self-worth shattered. And it’s all because of Google.

One of my editors came to me recently with a mildly Plimptonesque idea. George Plimpton (1927-2003) would engage in various stunts, then write about them. Plimpton almost got himself killed one time trying to play pro football in an endeavor he wrote about in “Paper Lion” in the 1960s.

I’m 47 now; I don’t play even touch football. But this idea sounded safer: Go a week without Google!

I’m the books editor at the Kansas City Star. Ladies and gentleman, where I live and breathe, print’s not dead. No Google for seven days? Easy.

I didn’t just say yes to this idea; I rushed in with Luddite swagger, throwback bluster.

Seven days? I didn’t last seven hours. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I use Google for my job. Each Monday, I work ahead, preparing book reviews, photos and other elements for the following Sunday’s Books pages. Using Google, I find some of those photos and also dig up an excerpt from a book for a weekly feature.

So I thought this would work: I would spend a Monday morning doing that, and then, at high noon, I would put away Googlish things for 168 hours. Come the following Monday afternoon, I could begin Googling again.

Here’s what really happened:

Day 1, Monday: It’s midafternoon. I’ve gone without Google about three hours. I realize I have forgotten to find a publicity photograph of author Jana Kohl. I fire up my Firefox Web browser, drop into the Google slot, plug in her name and see several photos. I find a good one, download … and only after I click the browser shut do I realize I’ve transgressed.

Loser!

I resolve to try harder.

Day 2, Tuesday: I’m at work and need to double-check the title of a book. I could use Amazon’s database, but this is a well-known author, and Google is faster than Amazon, which sometimes takes a few precious moments to load.

A copy editor comes over to my desk to ask me about another story I’m working on. This particular copy editor I’ve known since the fourth grade. We had two years of elementary school together before I moved away. She knows about my Google assignment, and in a voice free of chiding she says, “Are you … Googling?”

Dang it! Except I didn’t say “dang.” Failure again!

Day 3, Wednesday: It’s early morning. I have my favorite coffee cup, and I’m about to finish a pesky rewrite. Unfortunately, though, I woke up with a goofy question in my head: What freezes first, concrete or metal?

This question is the fault of Dennis McNally , former publicist for the Grateful Dead. In “A Long Strange Trip ,” his 2002 book about the band, he revealed that drummer Bill Kreutzmann and guitarist Bob Weir once got into a heated argument over this very issue.

Six years have passed since I wrote about that book. Frankly, I never cared which freezes first, concrete or metal. And this morning what happens? I wake up with this question burning out my circuits.

You know what happened. I Googled. In my defense: This time I realized I was doing it and stopped. So don’t ask me which freezes first, concrete or metal, because I don’t know, and furthermore I’m sorry Kreutzmann and Weir ever got into this stupid tiff, and sorrier still that McNally put it in his book, and disgusted with myself that I woke up with such an infernally irrelevant question rattling around in my noggin.

In the old days, you see, when something like that happened, your thought process went like this, unless you were a member of the Grateful Dead: “So what freezes first, concrete or metal? Gosh, I dunno! I could go get the Britannica and dig through there for a while, or make a trip to the library, or call some construction contractor and probably get laughed at. But it’s really kind of a dumb question, isn’t it? So I think I’ll just watch this rerun of 'Miami Vice’ instead.”

Now you Google it, or you try to before you realize you’re about to commit a third venal electronic sin.

Look, I can hear your objections. Such as, “Why doesn’t the fool just use Yahoo for a week?” Good question, but I have good answers.

Google is built into all the Web browsers I use. There’s a little tab in Internet Explorer and in Firefox and in Safari on my Mac. It’s so ingrained now that I do it without even realizing it.

Plus, I don’t like the way Yahoo looks. I know; it really doesn’t look all that different from Google. Maybe it’s the Google logo I like, with the different-colored letters. And it’s customized on most holidays!

And Google is so complete. It has everything! And that’s not only good but also bad, because much of the information is trash. Atlantic Monthly magazine ran a story recently: “Is Google Making Us Stupid?” Well, sure! But it’s making life FASTER – and, by gum, folks, that’s all we care about these days!

I suspended my Google stunt at 11:31 a.m. Wednesday. It was only after doing so that I felt a little peace, felt myself give up a little bit. For example, I have no desire to go into Google and see which freezes first, concrete or metal. But I would like to know the answer. Could somebody Google it, then drop me an e-mail?