Tech Search

He has also been learning about the theories of John Rawls and John Locke, catching some YouTube videos of a Harvard lecture series, and dropping in on economics blogs with postings such as "The Net Fiscal Expenditure Stimulus in the U.S. 2008-2009."

I married Rob in part because of his curiosity -- the joy he once displayed when I asked him to help me calculate the precise speed of molasses (geek love!) and the fact that one of our first dates was to a debate on the nature of hell (uber geek love!).

So Rob's interest in philosophy wasn't surprising, but I hadn't known exactly how much he read about it until I'd happened to borrow his computer one evening. Therein was the quintessential archaeological artifact of the 21st century: Rob's Internet search history.

A 2009 survey said Americans spend an average of 13 free hours each week on the Internet. In our house, during lazy weeks at least, we can probably hit that. Ostensibly, it's research for work: I frequently write about Internet culture, analyzing sites designed to do nothing but waste time. But the Web is like an infinite trail of bread crumbs, meaning that what begins as work can dissolve into me reading about Ukrainian serial killers or the history of the Postal Service, pursuing my own bizarre lines of interest against the private glow of my laptop.

Web surfing isn't really a team activity. With the exception of occasionally forwarded links, I saw our search histories the way I saw my yoga class or Rob's guitar -- independent hobbies rather than couple activities. There have been occasions when we've lost hours in silent side-by-side clicking, interrupted only with, "Babe, can you pass the power cord?" (No, we don't have kids.)

But maybe Internet surfing really could be a couple activity? Maybe if I spent a week dedicating myself to the Internet as Rob saw it, I would have some sort of marital revelation, the way those women do who force their husbands to go to rustic couples retreats or engage in partnered scrapbooking. This experiment would be like that, but I would never have to get off the couch.

"Show me what you look at," I said to my husband.

Take me to your reader.

***

Day 1: I want to gouge my eyes out.

Rob went to a big state school with strong sports teams, which he ardently follows. When I asked for a list of Web sites that he visited regularly, college sports blogs were, not surprisingly, at the top. This concerned me. That cliche movie scene where the guy tries to explain the rules of football to the girl by moving condiments around the table at the diner? We have tried that. I ate the running back.