Bertha still hasn’t returned any of my calls. She didn’t answer when I rang her doorbell Friday night or Saturday night. Her door is locked. Her bedroom window is locked. The lights in her apartment never came on Saturday night, or at least not before 3:30 am. Is she avoiding me? Is she away for the weekend?

I feel very alone.

I’ve been trying to comfort myself by taking a larger perspective. In the course of human history, now isn’t exactly a bad time to be alone. It’s certainly better nowadays than it would have been a hundred years ago.

Let’s travel back in time.

It’s 1908. Let’s say there’s a guy named Arlen who didn’t get any pleasure from talking to other people. In fact, it pained him so much that solitude was a form of relief. And let’s say he had the kind of sister who was living such a dim life that her only moment of brightness was when she shined a light on her brother’s isolated existence. And he had the kind of brother who sold all of Arlen’s Star Trek: TNG collectibles for $15 in a yard sale and then accused Arlen of avarice for complaining. OK, maybe they didn’t have Star Trek collectibles back in 1908. Maybe he sold his brother’s Civil War artifacts for an Indian nickel. You get the point.

What could a lonely guy do in 1908? Sit around in the local diner with people he had no desire to talk to? Read books in the library? Live in some brick apartment reading Charles Dickens by candlelight? Have a tubercular seizure and be taken away to a sanitarium?

Compare that to now. I can turn on the television at any time and choose among dozens of movies, any of which can easily numb my mind. I can watch every single episode of Babylon 5 on my Zune. I can jump on the internet and see all kinds of things that my 1908 doppelganger could only dream about. I can make safe friends on the internet. And so can everyone else.

We can all be alone together.

Isolation score: 9