Thursday, November 15, 2012

Don't talk to me... I'm texting you!

I go out to lunch with our son every couple of weeks and sometimes I pick him up at his local coffee house instead of his apartment. It's pretty routine but one day last month as I was pulling up to the coffee house, a girl stepped off the curb and started to walk right in front of my car.

My car is a quiet little hybrid so people don't always hear me coming. Often in parking lots I get stuck driving behind pedestrians who are moseying along with no idea that I'm even there. So I figured that's what was going on with this girl. But then I noticed she was texting, had earbuds in her ears, and was completely oblivious to everything around her. I didn't want to honk since she was so close and I thought it would scare her to death. I considered shouting from the window or jumping out of the car to wave her off. But just as I was deciding what to do, she walked right smack dab into the front corner of my car. She looked up briefly, changed course ever so slightly, and continued walking across the street, texting and listening to music.

That bothered me but this was even worse. Yesterday late afternoon I went the store to pick up a couple of things for dinner, and I heard a woman with a loud voice taking a business call. Her cart was half full and parked askew by the frozen foods, blocking the aisle. Standing next to her was a little girl with her hands on the cart handle, waiting and watching her mom.

I'm not sure why our electronics madness is suddenly breaking my heart, but it seems like in so many ways it's crowding out the things I treasure in life. Relational connections, physical touch, eye contact, books with pages. When I was in London in September I started chatting with Ashley while checking my emails. She paused for a second and said, "I'm sorry, I don't talk to people when they're using electronics." That was probably the wisest thing I've heard anyone say in a long time. Why would I want to look at emails when I could have an in-person conversation with my daughter who lives a world away?

Someone told me recently about a family that has decided to put their electronics in a basket as they walk in the front door. When you think about it, we all have to drop our electronic devices in bins on the conveyor belt when we go through airport security, so we know it's physically possible to let go of them. Maybe it's the emotional component that keeps us attached and addicted. It's so much the way of our lives that quitting isn't really an option, is it?

Last night I asked Morgan what he thought would happen if suddenly, in a flash, all electronics disappeared. Poof! He said, "I think we'd revert to being cavemen." And cavewomen. And caveteens and cavetweens and cavekids and cavetoddlers and cavebabies. Cavebabies!

Or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe we're currently living in personal caves where our only connection with the outside world is through our electronic devices. It doesn't matter that our caves are dark and silent because our devices are backlit and have built-in speakers.

I'm not anti-electronics at all. I have an iPhone, an iPad, and a MacBook Air. If I didn't have my phone Lynn couldn't have texted me this afternoon: "I'm at your gate... let me in it's raining!" If I didn't have my laptop I couldn't skype with Ollie-O and see his latest Lego creations. I'm pretty sure that having all of my electronics has made my life - in some ways - better, smarter, more fun, safer, and more creative.

But it's none of the above when I sit for an hour in the living room playing Words With Friends with my husband who is lying on the couch opposite me. Now and then he'll shout, "Ha! Take that, JBNease5!" but that doesn't really qualify as a conversation with me. It makes me feel left out. I do it too: taking phone calls when I'm out with someone because I'm sure the person calling me can't wait, it might be an emergency, or nearly possibly maybe an emergency. And if I read a text I know my reply will be so quick that no one will even notice I'm staring at my phone.

Truth is, I regularly text or email my friends instead of talking to them. Quicker, easier, click. I send people little red hearts instead of telling them with my voice how much they mean to me. Cute, clever, click. I don't want to do that anymore. It's lonely and disconnecting to be with people who tell you to wait a minute while they talk, text, play with, or email other people. I'm thinking of being a trailblazer instead. Maybe I can start an "iFast" movement where for one day a week we all agree to put our electronics in a basket at our front doors and fast from using them inside our houses. Maybe I can even get a corner on the "iBasket" market!