It’s the simple things. That’s a saying, right?
I assume that saying is out of style. Because everyone is in a hurry. Everyone is overbooked. No one has time to read anymore. If they do it’s on kindle. And even then it’s skimming while they cook or commute or do yoga. The less simple others allow their lives to become, the angrier I get.
It’s not cool, ya’ll.
Gregorific has rush rage. When someone is talking to me and they suddenly take out their cell to check email or tweet or post, I have an irrepressible urge to slap it out of their hands. Like an annoying, buzzing, vibrating fly.
I haven’t done it yet.
Anyway, we’re in the restaurant and my seven-year-old asks me why we aren’t looking at our phones. I glance around and every single person is holding, or talking into, or typing, or gazing at, a cell.
Every single person. We double checked to be sure. People were right across from each other but in totally different universes.
Eight people in all were ensconced in their digital worlds. My youngest began to pretend her cardboard coaster was a phone. It was hilarious. I tried to call but she put me on hold. She had to text a couple peeps and play some stack the states and then send a pic to someone and then check their status and post her own and then check email. Finally she beeped me in and I let her know our food had arrived.
She updated everyone by instagram, tumbler, tweet, facebook, blog, email, and text.
Then she put the coaster down, placed her glass on it, and we had a lovely, uninterrupted meal.
Simple is as simple does.