DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE INTERNET IS FOR?

No?

Me neither.

This revelation occurred to me the other day as I was turning on my laptop. It was during that uneventful period where your computer tells you it’s “Resuming Windows” (which maybe wouldn’t take so damn long if it simply resumed rather than spend its energy on telling me it’s resuming …) that I began to question the nature of the Internet.

It was that brand of philosophical inquisitiveness I engage in sometimes where, all of a sudden, the big question for everything is: “Why?”

When Al Gore invented the Internet, I didn’t really question why — I think because back then I actually knew why. It was something about a thing called Arpanet, and universities needing a way to exchange information in a protocol that was labeled “Internetworking” (that’s where we get the term “Internet”). Now as I scan Wikipedia I see that the year of its birth was 1969. Wow. I also see that Al Gore didn’t really invent it as he claimed. I also see that the report that said Al Gore claimed he invented it was erroneous.

Man you can’t trust anything you read on the Web, can you?

Where was I? Oh yeah, the reason for the ’Net. Here’s the conclusion I’ve come to: The Internet was created so we could buy stuff. Take for example eBay, or Amazon. If I ever absentmindedly end up on such sites, and then absentmindedly enter “skateboard” or “VW Bug accessories,” I can then, absentmindedly, order any item of my choosing and have it delivered straight to my house. Which is awesome.

So that’s got to be what the Internet is for, right?

You forgot to mention stickers, John. I actually didn’t know someone could order stickers off the Internet, until we started receiving them, in the mail, every other week.

I use the Internet for so many things. Right now I am helping a friend with her wedding plans. She lives in L.A. and we are able to compare dresses, flowers, venues, photos and ideas, instantly via the Web. We can even create a “board” on Pinterest and “pin” ideas to come up with a complete visual representation of the big day. It’s wonderful.

Just last night my daughter-in-law, Amber, messaged me asking for my Coconut Fish Stew recipe. I was out with a friend, but was able to pull it up on my phone via Evernote and send it to her straight away. Within 20 minutes she was sending me back photos of her girls eating the soup. How cool is that?

I just scheduled an appointment with a new hairdresser — mainly because even though you did a great job cutting my hair last night, I feel the need to have a professional look at it! I got a referral from a friend and then looked up the salon on the Internet. They get great reviews.

Well yeah, sure Loretta — there’s all that stuff too. But I’m beginning to wonder if the one real true purpose of the Internet is for videos on how to fix cars. Since I discovered YouTube a while back I’ve seen my mechanic maybe twice — and once was just to hang out and have a beer, which was easy for him because he’s got so much free time now.

Every time I have a knock or a ping or a rattle I can’t quite explain (or ignore), I turn on my computer, grab a quick nap while it “resumes,” then go to YouTube to search videos on my car’s latest disorder. I enter “Belching clouds of greenish smoke” or “Weird jagged thing sticking out side of engine” or whatever else it is and then I get like 20 or 30 videos on how to fix the problem.

Oh hey, what was that bit about “Pinterest”? Do they have a car repair forum there too?

I’d have to say I use the Internet every single day. I really don’t have a bunch of cookbooks anymore, because I can find any recipe I want with a stroke of a few computer keys. And don’t even get me started on social media! I used to keep all of my photos (I have thousands of them) on my computer hard drive. After a few computer crashes I decided the best way to “save” my photos was on the cloud.

You do know what a cloud is, right?

But do you know what my favorite use of the Internet is? I mean, like the best invention ever?

My son, who is a naval aviator, is away from his wife and young daughters for long periods of time. But because some smart person invented Skype, he can actually see his 1-year-old daughter smile and see his 3-year-old daughter say “I love you Daddy” to him. They get to see his face and hear him laugh. And even though they don’t understand where Daddy is, they can at least see him on a screen, thanks to the Internet.

Yeah, I know not everyone lives in my wonderful Pollyanna world. I see the abuse that is common on the Web, too. Here we have this amazing tool, this device to bring us all together to share the remarkable things going on around us, and yet some people use it to spew vitriol.

I quit reading most of the comments that people post on just about every single article on the Internet. I’ve often wondered if those people actually read the article before jumping right to the comments section.

Then NPR did a funny article back in April titled “Why Doesn’t America Read Anymore?” In the article they wondered the same thing that I have, and challenged people who read it to share it without commenting. As you may have guessed, they got a whole lot of comments from “readers” who never read past the headline, but sure had a lot to say about it.

Oh yeah, I remember reading that story on National Public Radio’s site! A bunch of people seemingly read only the headline of the article — and then skipped right to the comment section so they could start lobbing insults at the author, and each other.

Isn’t it weird how seemingly normal people, who are well behaved in public, can go through a sort of “Jekyll and Hyde” transformation when afforded the anonymity of a keyboard and a user name?

What an odd phenomenon, huh? Imagine being rude, for the most part, because no one is standing beside you reminding you that to do so is puerile behavior. Could the real purpose of the Internet be as a forum for those who are best never heard from in public?

Nah — that can’t be right, can it?

John P. Gavin is the author of “Online Dating Sucks … but it’s how I fell in love,” which is available at Bookshop Benicia. Loretta Gavin is a writer and mother of two — and the subject of John’s book.