Over-Connected: Let The Slapping Begin

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Dear Reader: Look up the word satire before you go any further; no real fruit was injured during the typing of this entry.

young-kid-with-cell-phoneI have a very dear friend who I have known for a number of years (and whose name I promised him I would withhold) that is more “plugged-in”, “tuned-in”, and “turned-on” than anyone I have ever known. We have been through a great many things together, and I consider him as much my brother as the one with whom I share a mother. Having said that, I have to admit that he was the very first person that came to mind when I came across this article from the BBC:

Are you ‘over-connected’?

As I live, folks, I swear to you that if the word “Over-connected-ness” ever found its way onto the hallowed pages over at Merriam – Webster, its accompanying definition would be joined by a photograph of my favorite partner in crime… grinning from ear to ear and surrounded by every type of gadget and gizmo that has ever been made by that “fruit company” that Forrest Gump invested in after his shrimpin’ bidness took off.

It’s worth mentioning here that I hate that fruit company and much prefer to give my money to the guys playing in outer space… a point of contention between my friend and I that knows no bounds.

Now… inasmuch as the BBC piece attempts to take a serious look at a genuinely serious problem facing cultures all around the world today, I found myself thinking more about the atrocious behavior all this “connected-ness” has wrought on our culture that I see all around me every day. It’s not a stretch to say that there are a lot of people out there-a VERY lot-that should have their electronical gadgets slapped right off the side of their heads.

article-1384960-016DC8B1000004B0-595_233x504Think I’m crazy? Have YOU ever been to DFW airport at 5 o’clock on a Friday night? Or O’Hare maybe…… Or LAX or any other major airport nuthouse that is jammed to the rafters at max capacity with human – like creatures… many of whom are [redacted]off, rude, and generally unpleasant to be in such close quarters with?

Yeah…thought so.

I have never understood-especially in this day and age-how people have come to believe that they will get what they want and what they demand on getting-from ticket agents and DHS officers – by getting up in their faces and yelling at them… let alone doing so while yelling into cell phone about how lousy the service is and how long the security lines are.

I’ve seen it firsthand folks… more than once people!

I would be lying if I said I have never visualized walking up to these complete strangers and-without a word-slapping the [redacted]phone right off the side of their head. Sure… I’d probably be arrested… or beaten senseless… but at least everybody else could get back to worrying about getting on their planes and getting home on time. And I’m betting I’d get a standing “O” as I got cuffed and perp-walked to the door.

How about at the convenience store, when you’re already late, and you just want to hand over your “prepay cash” money to the un-trusting cashiers so you can get your self moving again… headed toward to wherever it is you’re supposed to be… but you can’t do it because some [redacted]is forearm deep in their pocket, fumbling for the 20 or 30 quarters they need in order to buy a pack of cigarettes they could literally live without while [redacted]to their friend on a cell phone about how ridiculous it is to have to pay a “sin” tax”.

Yup… slap it right off the side of their head!

In line at the Bank on payday, right before closing time? Yep-it’s as good a place as any, right? I mean who wants to be standing in line behind someone who is prattling on about all the gory details of what an [redacted]this person’s lover has been to them lately?

Exactly… slap it right off the side of their head.

And don’t even get me started about movie theaters!

You know… now that I think of it… I think I’ll go over to my buddy’s house, stand outside the door, and called his on his silly little piece of fruit from my way cooler rocket ship, and tell him how much I think his “tech” fruit sucks…just as I knock on the front door. Who really cares about a few pieces of bruised fruit anyway?

[Images courtesy of OnMogul>, EmbersSeminars, and The Daily Mail .]

About Author

G.M. Curtiss is recently retired and currently residing in the great North East. Having grown up in the era before a former Vice President invented the Internet, he busies himself now with trying to figure out how that infernal creation actually works in real life.

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