She was stunningly beautiful. The type of woman that makes you glance back three or four times to validate your initial perception, like seeing the latest model of a sports car in liquid black. And no disrespect is meant to my wife or women as a whole. I blame God for my primal moth-to-flame attraction to physical beauty and chrome. Perpetuation of the species my ass. She was simply gorgeous.
That is, until I saw the cell phone glued to her hand, as if an indispensable fashion accessory: the digital social shield. I suddenly found her less attractive and laughed at the Disney witch-like transformation that took place in my subconscious in a matter of seconds as I walked past her in the restaurant. For me, the ever-present digital appendage became a flaw-magnifier.
I watched as she and her lunchmates silently studied and swiped their screens; their cyber dialogue being more relevant than sustenance or those sharing oxygen at the same table.
Maybe they’re co-workers and can’t stand each other, I thought.
Maybe they’re friends and can’t stand each other.
Maybe they’re family… and can’t stand each other.
It didn’t matter. Whatever the relationship dynamic, they were locked in cyber silence, fixated on the the dull glow of their life’s power pack: social astronauts floating in the expanse of cyber reality, tethered by the twisted branch of an Apple tree.
Maybe it’s the novelty of evolving digital technology that has people mesmerized, devoted to social media and group chats. I feel that way about campfires. I must be simple or not as socially advanced. I’m completely content to be captivated by a campfire on my patio, Genuine Draft in hand, staring at the stars and listening to woodland creatures of the night. Or maybe I get enough electronic stimulation at work and don’t need a cellular umbilical to feel connected.
The addiction is out of control. “Control” being the operative word. Everywhere I look I see silent zombies, phones in hand, “chatting” in a self-controlled reality, from which words without voice become bullets fired from the security of a cyber bunker.
I was at dinner with my wife recently at one of our favorite haunts. She was locked in mortal combat on the social media battlefield that is Facebook. I admit, I don’t do Facebook. My daughter set up a page for me when she was 13 but I never took the time to play ‘n post. Maybe I have adult ADD but it has always seemed like a time-waster and one of the weaker branches on the evolutionary tree of life. As I said to my kids in an effort to rein in their Facebook “network,” the only people that have 700 friends are prostitutes and accountants.
“This chick is outta her mind! Listen to this, I’ve been fighting with her all day!” She said, aiming her Apple slingshot in my direction. “Look at how long her texts are!”
“I’ve been sitting here a long time staring out the window,” I said.
“Yeah, but she’s crazy!” she said, in a thumb-flurry response.
“No Bek, crazy is me sitting here instead of getting a Chinese carryout. Who is she?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Some whacko on Facebook, posting on stuff she knows nothing about.”
“You don’t even know this person?”
“No, I told you it’s Facebook. Everyone comments on stuff,” she said.
“Yeah, but you’re arguing with someone you don’t know…for really no reason. I don’t get it. This is why I don’t do Facebook,” I answered.
“SHE’S SOOOOO DUMB!” She said, pounding out another barrage.
“No, I am,” I said, leaning back in the chair, hoping for a car accident… meteor strike…. SOMETHING…in the street outside the restaurant. But so it goes… the digital addiction of social media. Posts, pics, and pokes. Opinions, quarrels, and rants.
“THAT’S IT! SHE’S BLOCKED!”
BLOCKED. The digital coup de grace, ending a day-long feud of verbal slings and arrows against an invisible thumb-blistered adversary.
Shit! Down to 699.
But just when I had myself convinced that society is in a death spiral of time-wasting technology, something happened, validating the TRUE value of “connectivity.”
The other day at work, one of our outside contractors was doing high work on an extension ladder on the exterior of the building and fell, hitting a steel air conditioning unit before finding himself face down in the grass behind the building. He broke his leg in two places and was in severe pain. He had his cell phone in his pocket and was able to call our office for help. He was pale, looking like he was going into shock when we ran to help. If he hadn’t had his phone in his pocket he might have been there for hours.
But in reality, the injured guy called, he didn’t post a grimacing picture of himself on Facebook, peeking through blades of grass with cartoon images of vultures circling overhead. (That might have been just as effective but he would have had different people respond.)
I guess like anything else, it comes down to self-discipline and moderation. Kinda like M&M’s. Now if there was only a way to stop texting drivers…
Special thanks to my friend and co-worker Al for perspective. And thanks Bek for understanding that we can all see ourselves ourselves in the glow of our phone.
I hate to admit it,but I’ve been guilty of the temptation of digital warfare. If not for my disdain (and laziness to log in) for Facebook, I would’ve logged in to various web sights numerous times to engage in battle with many fools who spout inane crap! However, I have held on to the adage that my mom once told me years ago; “what’s worse, the fool or the one that argues with him!” That still hasn’t stopped me from many frustrating moments and private rants about the idiot posting stupid shit! Alas, I can’t escape my own foolishness. Over the years I’ve learned the importance of walking away from a foolish fight if for no other reason than to protect my own dignity…and sanity. I have witnessed a crowded bar with people either mesmerized by the T.V. or glued to their phones and could only shake my head at the lost art of participating in engaging conversation. Technology certainly has taken us a long way, unfortunately it has also taken us away from each other.
I hate to admit it but I have been tempted to engage in electronic sparring too many times. If it weren’t for my disdain for Facebook (or laziness to log in to post comments) I would have indulged in digital battle more times than I care to acknowledge. Fortunately for me an old adage I was once told a long time ago whispers in my ear and calls me off the computerized battlefield. The saying goes like this “what’s worse, the fool or the one who argues with him?” In my desire to preserve my dignity (and sanity) I choose to ignore the fools and only engage in meaningful face-to-face conversations. I have had those shake my head moments when a group of friends stopped off for a drink and in no time at all, everyone was either glued to the T.V. or mesmerized by their phones. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of technology. Technology has taken us a long way; unfortunately it’s taken us a long way from each other as well.