Written in May 2015, but as I re-read this, i know i'd write the same exact thing today:
I sat in a cafe in NYC this past Spring, a beautiful Spring, and this is what came to me...
To so many it sounds like a broken record, but the goddamn phones are ruining our society. They're taking down this section of the the human race that buys into their importance as a lifeline to everything but what is right in front of them.
Someone's nose in a book, someone reading a paper, almost invites a comment, albeit brief in many case, but in some...it's the window to a new conversation with a stranger; a meeting of the minds: Have you read? Did you see? What did you think about...?
People still move at the speed of light. The still predominately wear black.
They eat lunch from 12-1 and it's never brought from home.
They still yell, "Hey, how are ya?! and "Get the fuck outta here!" both of them, lovingly.
I'd like to say it feels like I never left.
Then I realize,
To so many it sounds like a broken record, but the goddamn phones are ruining our society. They're taking down this section of the the human race that buys into their importance as a lifeline to everything but what is right in front of them.
Someone's nose in a book, someone reading a paper, almost invites a comment, albeit brief in many case, but in some...it's the window to a new conversation with a stranger; a meeting of the minds: Have you read? Did you see? What did you think about...?
People still move at the speed of light. The still predominately wear black.
They eat lunch from 12-1 and it's never brought from home.
They still yell, "Hey, how are ya?! and "Get the fuck outta here!" both of them, lovingly.
I'd like to say it feels like I never left.
Then I realize,
I move slowly now.
I rarely wear black.
I'm lucky if I get to lunch and it's always brought from home.
I don't yell out so much, 'cuz I don't see my people.
But the biggest difference today is that every single person in the city is staring into a phone. They all look down and peer into something the rest of us are not a part of. The people seem younger. I don't exchange smiles with the boys on the street; I must seem older. I don't recognize the bartenders. And even if I wanted to, the eye contact is almost impossible to make: They're all on their phones.
I rarely wear black.
I'm lucky if I get to lunch and it's always brought from home.
I don't yell out so much, 'cuz I don't see my people.
But the biggest difference today is that every single person in the city is staring into a phone. They all look down and peer into something the rest of us are not a part of. The people seem younger. I don't exchange smiles with the boys on the street; I must seem older. I don't recognize the bartenders. And even if I wanted to, the eye contact is almost impossible to make: They're all on their phones.
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