You Talkin' to Me?

In the past couple of years, the communication explosion has left me both bemused and befuddled.

You see, I never know who's actually talking to me or at me any more.

A while back I wrote you an email entitled "Live from Paris". In it I described how I heard my name "David" screeched almost directly into my right ear.

Startled, both by the proximity and the volume, I immediately spun around to look straight into the eyes of a frumpy, fifty-ish, fair-haired fat lady who was not talking to me at all.

Embarrassed, I let her pass, but I felt entitled to eavesdrop on her conversation at least for a few more strides.

Turns out she was maligning her misfit, mid-teens son back in middle America for not buying the right brand of mustard.

This is not the first time I have met with a vacuous stare of someone who was not talking to me.

It's usually the same scenarios though. I'm minding my own business when someone says "Hello" close behind me. I usually make a complete idiot out of myself by spinning around, a broad stupid grin reflexively splattered on my face, say "Hello" and wave a big Hi only to find someone engrossed in conversation on their cell phone. At that point, I sheepishly look around to see if anyone else saw me make a complete jackass out of myself in
public.

Worse yet is when this happens and I'm actually facing the person. There are two occasions where this is common. The first occurs at the grocery store where I'm walking, head down, intently staring at the items on the shelves. I've now trained myself to shove my hand in my pocket and look up before I respond to the hello from the person who is facing me.

Good thing too, because I'd be batting 0 and 10 against the cell phone.

The next bone I have to pick is with bluetooth technology. First off, why would anybody name a company after the Wicked Witch of the West's dental plan. Next, it took me a long time to realize that there was not a huge spike in schizophrenics walking the streets.

At least, with the cell phone you saw people talking into something. With bluetooth, if they're turned the wrong way, all you see is a guy babbling to himself. I have to admit, it did seem the dress code for schizophrenics had gotten a lot better, as it was usually people in business suits or button-down shirts.

There are other examples of this rampant non-communication as well. The other day I ordered a green tea at a local cafe. As the young girl was performing the rocket science involved in filling the cup with boiling water, she said in my general direction, "Are you on Ebay?" I replied "No, that's not my market." She then laughed at me and carried on with the conversation that she had started a moment before I arrived with the girl next to her. Apparently, the under 30 crew can speak to each other while looking at other people.

And one final question, since when did "no problem" replace "you're welcome' as the correct answer to "thank you"?

Technology is truly a dream come true. When I was a kid, all the characters on the TV show "Star Trek" had communicators. It has not escaped my notice that today's cell phones are a dead ringer for the Star Trek communicator.

I am sometimes tempted to flip open my phone and say, ”Beam me up, Scotty." But I'm pretty sure his response would be "You talkin' to me?"

P.S. I plan to live long enough to see the return of personal communication where people look at each other when conversing and the proper response to "thank you" is "you're welcome". When that day comes, there will also be cell phone free areas which will include restaurants, theatres, places of worship and air traffic control towers. Since that may be a while, I'm glad I have fish oil and Regenerizer to keep my cells young and healthy.

All the best,

Dr Dave