Walking

I spent some three and a half hours digging up some lawn today. This gave me a great amount of time to not only think, but to observe the sporadic flow of people up and down my street. I had a realization, which I will share with you shortly. Once this oddity donned on me, I felt the urge to continue my visual investigation for the rest of the day, and I've come to a fairly certain hypothesis:

No one ever "just walks" anymore.

Yes, people walk. They walk to and from places, in and around places, sometimes even over or under places. However, no one seems to walk just for the sake of walking. People who once did this have taken up the revolting act of "power walking" where they swing their arms from side to side and increase their speed ever so slightly that the mere act of walking can fall into the "exercise" category. Don't even get me started on joggers or runners. What I'm talking about is walking because you simply enjoy the act of walking. I enjoy taking late night strolls. Alas, for the most part either my schedule or the weather (and, of course, sometimes both) have prevented me from doing so recently. Alas, I admit, even my aimless wanderings aren't without taint: that's right, I'm talking again about hand-held devices.

If I die sad and alone, it won't be because no one ever set me up on a date, or that I didn't go out enough, it will be due to the fact that in our modern society, no one can randomly strike up conversations anywhere anymore. In coffee shops, on campus, in stores, and everywhere else, someone has SOMETHING jammed into their ear.
Case in point:
I hear a light and perhaps slightly seductive female voice behind me in line at Trader Joe's. I turn. I see a woman speaking to some familiar voice via her phone. Phones themselves were bad enough, now I have to deal with this whole BlueTooth bullshit. Schizophrenics who can't shut up don't need therapy or meds, they just need a little thingy to clip on their ear with a blinking blue light and they could be an investment banker for all we'd know. No one would ever know, because apparently if you own one of these little gizmos, you can NEVER remove it from your ear, whether you are on the phone or not. At least give a brotha a hardwire, so I have some slight visual clue that you MIGHT be talking to someone other than me when you say "So, wanna grab a drink tonight?" around me in public.

Then there's the iPod. It is one of the advancements in technology that I most celebrate, yet it is also the new opiate of the masses. I fall victim to it too: as soon as I park at school, I put my headphones in. I remove one ear bud, out of courtesy, when ordering my coffee at the cafe on campus. Once my transaction is complete, the headphones go back in until I safely arrive at my classroom. Even then, I usually wait for someone to talk to me before removal. Same holds true for visits to the coffee shop. Granted, if I see someone I might eventually grow enough balls to talk to, I will probably keep the iPod in the pocket, but one just never knows.

So, getting back to walking. If no one (in SF at least) ever just walks, I can never tip my cap and say "hi" to the person passing me in the opposite direction. I might never get the chance to say "G'day mistress, d'ya fancy this weather we're having?" (yeah, I know - back to weather talk again) True, that might not be a bad thing, but I'll never know for sure because they're too busy calling their friends the minute they get to somewhere open enough to have perfect cell phone reception, or they climb into their musical cocoon as soon as the opportunity presents itself. Hell, even awkward elevator conversation is a one-in-ten shot nowadays.

So, when you venture out onto the pavement as this week wears on (and as that so-called "love day" rears its ugly head), think about how you present yourselves. It shouldn't matter if you're single, dating, married, or... other -- you will probably never run into that wonderful random person who makes your day if you're too busy checking your voicemail. Yes, I know many of you are thinking "But Bill, when we go out with you, all the crazy people approach you." This is true, but they approach me even if I have my heaphones on, so I think it might have to do with me being a magnet for the socially unbalanced.