How being connected disconnects us
Greetings from the Ridge.
What in God’s name is going on? Is the world going crazy or just me?
Scene One: I was sitting in a committee meeting last week with seven otherwise normal, sane people. We had a 12-item agenda, our time was precious, and we had some important matters to settle. I’d plopped myself down in the center of a long table and the president opened the meeting with the reading of the minutes, the treasurer’s report, and other mundane items while I glanced at my agenda. Then I looked up and saw what was happening. Not a soul was paying attention. Not a person looked at anyone else. Four were looking at their phone text messages and the other three, including the presiding officer, were glued to their laptops. I was the only non-connected person in the room and as a result I was the only one truly connected to what was happening. The man next to me had the effrontery to actually giggle aloud at the text message he was reading. I’d had enough. I calmly stood up, grabbed hold of my chair and slung it down the length of the table to my right, clearing out two laptops and knocking two cell phones out of the offenders’ hands. Four down and three to go, so I replaced my chair, climbed onto the meeting table, took careful aim and kicked one cell phone right out of the grasp of the lady sitting next to me. Then I turned my eyes upon our president, who was so engrossed in what he was watching that he didn’t even see me coming. I’m not sure what his laptop cost, but next week he’ll be shopping for a new one. There’s nothing quite so satisfying as the sound of a Mac Book Pro slamming against the floor. No matter what the ads tell you, the Apple computer is not indestructible. Finally I swiveled to face the one lone lady still holding a working device. Our eyes met. She must have seen the murderous intent on my face because she quickly stood, aimed, and hurled her cell phone against the wall. It was beautiful.