When I was growing up, we all had that one Nirvana unplugged CD.  You know the one where the poor drug addict screams his little lungs out, come as you are...preferably high.  In my case I also had an Eric Clapton unplugged CD.   The first CD I ever owned in fact was the Eric Clapton one, the teary Tears in Heaven and the more upbeat Layla played extensively on my DVD player back in the day.   I don’t think that any of us really knew just what unplugged meant, or how we would in time to come need to unplug ourselves from the network a bit. This past weekend we went to a cherry farm in Fouriesburg, Free-State with some friends, and the most amazing part of the weekend was most probably the fact that our smartphones had zero reception.  Zero as in nada, zip, this meant no BBM, Whatsapp, Facebook or emails.   It was quite a new experience to be living in the moment again and not living the moment on Facebook tagging along all the ti...