A few nights ago, I returned from an event to join my extended family—which in this case included five children in a living room.  They were gathered in darkness around a blaring TV.  Four of them had devices in their hands.  Nobody was talking, and few looked up when I entered the room.  No:

“Good evening, Mr. Cleaver!”

The only child without a device was my nine-year-old daughter.  And I actually felt sorry for her.

SURVEY SEZ…

• 42% of parents worldwide say they don’t take time to have fun with their kids on a daily basis.
• 49% say that, when spending time as a famiy, their families are distracted by technology.
• 55% of working parents say their mobile devices and computer technology mean it’s too easy to stay connected to work during time with family.

Although I felt sorry for my daughter for not having the toy the others did, I feel sorry for all of us.  If my house provides any indicator, here are just a few of the one-time guidelines that have completely gotten forgotten…

• Don’t text where you sh*t.
• Eating zones are tech-free zones.
• Adults will kindly refrain from turning all spaces into work spaces.
• Homework, music practice, and chores (as if) come before digitalia.
• Devices are put to bed an hour before bedtime, including on weekends.

Beat ‘em or join ‘em?

Those of us who still aren’t addicted to technology have difficult decisions to make.  Do we give up, inhale, and become another one of them?  Do we stubbornly keep insisting that real life is the 3D kind (that doesn’t require glasses) and risk being left out?  Do we get serious about moving somewhere that is still real?

Can we even have this discussion anymore, or is it just too late?  I fear I know the answer.

At least in my house.

Not yet.  But stick around a few years.  Time Warner did a study recently, and survey sez…

If they had to give up one thing, here’s what New Yorkers would give up:

• 32% would give up their coffee
• 30% would give up good bagels
• 3% would give up fast internet access

Facebook came along in, what, 2004?  Coffee has been around since, what, before dirt?  And as for bagels, we non-New-Yorkers wouldn’t know a good bagel if it bit us in the butt (so New Yorkers tell us).

Wonder how many would choose fast internet access over a career break?

No, no:  I don’t want to know…

1. Go to NOLA and become a world-class freeze-mime for tips on Bourbon Street.  Like she did —–>
2. As Kempt suggests, when out with buddies, stack your phones on the table; the first one to grab theirs picks up the tab.  Party on, Garth!
3. Same thing with family Sunday Supper, but the grabber does the clean-up.
4. Escape on BreakAway to somewhere like St. John—a place so captivating (and relatively un-wired) your screens seem superfluous.
5. Take a road trip with the music so loud you can’t hear your phone.
6. Speaking of music, ditch that wimpy dock, get a kick-ass stereo again, and get lost in your rock and roll and drift away…
7. Shhhh…Try—just try—a silence and tech-free retreat on your birthday.
8. Get so down and dirty in your yard or garden that you’ll ruin that thing if you answer that text.
9. Head to your neighborhood elementary and read to the kids; if you’d rather be Googling, you’re hopeless.
10. Drop your phone in the toilet; happens all the time, really!
11. Or worse, do like so many Minnesotans of late have been doing and go for a drive on this weird winter’s thin ice—and fall through.  (Kidding!)

Well, what’dya know.  After thousands of deaths, countless injuries, and enough accidents to make an auto-body-shop owner dance on graves, the NTSB has finally decided that cell phones and driving don’t mix.

“Inattention” is the label they put the problem.  Indeed.  People who choose to be present in conversations (or presenting to groups) often see this disorder in others, but at least no one’s getting hurt.  I’m not one of those government haters—and have driven with phone—but this delayed reaction confirms NTSB’s incompetence.  Shame.

Most states do no better.  And most drivers wouldn’t pay attention to phone laws, to say nothing of cops.  So don’t expect the NTSB’s shocking declaration—or the suddenly-famous reports of 25 dead here, 11 dead there—to change a thing.

So the advice from the NBAB (National BreakAway Board) remains the same:  Unplug.  Drive your car.  Focus on where you’re going.  And whenever possible, transport yourself someplace far away from pile-ups, trauma, and undeserving distractions.

Our local paper (remember those?) ran a story recently about a young man named Taylor Baldry who sets up a proper table near a popular walking path, and invites passersby to stop for a Free Conversation.  WTF!?!  LOL!!! TMI!!?!!

It’s part of a project (part self-help, part performance art) he calls “The Conversationalist.” And believe it or don’t, he gets many takers—and they report walking away inspired, refreshed, and touched.  This begs the question:

Have we (especially we “haves”) gotten so busy and gadget-dependent that a free-range conversation with a stranger piques a nostalgic interest like a cute kid’s lemonade stand?”

Check out this pic of two Italian men outside the coffee shop.  Now THAT’S communication and connection—complete with waving arms, proximity, and touch.  Americans (especially we cold Northerners) may keep our distance.  But traditionally, we do love to talk.  Yet it seems that even that passion may be going the way of the rotary phone…

• The case for texting

To acknowledge an upside, many parents preach to me that they love texting—because their kids do—so communication with their kids happens where it otherwise might fall silent.  And in these all-at-onceness times, we need all the tools we can get our hands on just to keep up.

Yet this textbook reader often finds that text reading raises more riddles than it solves.  And when one-to-five word communiques replace most other forms, one must ask:

Is what we have here a failure to communicate?”

Example:  Last month, I asked an old acquaintance for a (somewhat involved) favor—via email—which I thought was a patient courtesy versus, say, a phone call.  Days later, I received an embarassed “yes” reply, with the admission that he rarely does email now.  So could we take this conversation on-text?

Of course! Could be my only reply.  But when it comes to texting, I’m all thumbs.  So playing out this arrangement became a new form of time-suck for me, though I happily complied to accommodate his generosity.

• The dying art

Meanwhile, you can’t turn to a legitimate news source these days without stumbling on another story about how we are rewiring our existence, literally and metaphysically.  Students can’t recall simple things when distracted by their digitalia.  Drivers are dying due to DWTexting fools.  And inattentive pedestrians texting or talking on cells are a new target for thugs and thieves.

So forgive those of us that still crave nuance, words, expressions, and I-to-I contact.  I’ll take the life of those Italian friends—who probably have dozens of fun and fervent confrontations a day.

And if I can’t be there, or no one else has the time or attention to talk, really talk, maybe I’ll go for a walk around Lake Calhoun and see if the brave, new conversationalist has a place for me at his table.

Survey sez…

• 32% of parents play computer games with their children every day
• 80% described this as quality time

Source:  PopCap Games

Screen living continues to turn us on.  If 80% of parents say Guitar Hero kicks butt over Guitar Lessons, then bring on Milli Vanilli.  If two out of three play games daily with their children, then bye-bye badminton.

Hey, who can blame the ‘rents?  Our best diversions may have been Donkey Kong, Rockem’ Sockem’ Robots, or perhaps a bike.  As one dad snickered to me when I was barking about our kids’ digital jones,

C’mon.  You’re just jealous ‘cuz they have cooler stuff than you did.”

No doubt.  Still, there are still countless “cool” alternatives awaiting those open to off-screen quality time with their kids…

11  Quality Time Alternatives to Playing Computer Games with Your Children

1. Take guitar lessons and play that thing.
2. Bake a cake.  (Box will do.)
3. Go to outdoor sports event and get noisy.
4. Play cards, backgammon, checkers, or chess.
5. Light a bonfire, with plenty of flaming marshmallows.
6. Chase; young kids love it.
7. Read things out loud.
8. Play catch.
9. Dig out their old 3D toys.
10. Make hand-made cards for faraway friends.
11. Fish.

What’s your idea of quality time?  What would you add to the list?  I’m listening…

Some of us preach the Gospel of Sabbatical and insist your career will be fine—no, better!—with breaks.  I try to apply that lifestyle to my daily grind, which leads to a stubborn regimen of outdoor time, exercise, chillaxing, and unplugging.  Of all of these, unplugging has become the most impossible.  Help!

You can hide, but you can’t run away”

It’s summer.  Dive into it before the long days fade into fall, right? Do more bar-b-que and less Chili’s. Eat more fresh fruits and fewer roots.  Watch a parade, ball game, and fireworks instead of your various SCREENS.

But prepare to pay the price, which, for me, in a matter of a few days, included:

• 755 unread emails
• 2,400 messages in my in-box (which I sweep out regularly)
• Lost messages, a check, and a bill (yay!)
• A disappointed friend whose text invitation I did not notice
• A money mess

And yet, one feels so…attached”

The conundrum thickens.  The more you step away from your (digital) desk, the larger the (proverbial) piles will be when you return.  So it’s little wonder that people seem plugged in 24/7.  Just in the past few days, I’ve witnessed now-common things like…

• A senior citizen swerving while driving…because she was on her cel phone
• Members of my household doing three digital devices…while watching TV
• A gaggle of teen girls at a baseball game…all staring at their “smart” phones
• A young man texting while driving…while eating a Big Mac
• A jam-packed coffee shop…with everybody screen-ing, and nobody talking

I would prefer not to…”

When Herman Mellville’s novella, “Bartleby the Scrivener,” made famous that quote, he presaged how many of us feel about insistent digital demands.  But note that Bartleby’s “preference” is not an outright refusal.

And should you refuse, prepare to pay the price.

And for no one to listen.

As one of my morning rituals, I walk part-way to the bus stop with my teenage son.  We don’t say much.  It’s early and sometimes dark and cold, after all.  But like the other kids scrambling into the day, mine is often also sporting headphones and texting away.  On this late, lovely spring day, I’m grateful to be somewhat techno-challenged.

• Can U hr the brds?

Teens tend to be gaga about their pop music, but I’m gaga when the tulips start popping and the loons start wailing.  Of course, wherever you go these days, those springy sounds are often accompanied by the tap-tap-tap of texting.  (No, that’s NOT a distant woodpecker…)

In some ways, that tapping may be an upgrade from the clueless boors who used to bark into their cell phone for all to hear with no regard to the people (or nature) around them.  Evolution works in strange ways.  But I do hope these teens don’t become so digi-centric that they forget to stop and smell the lilacs.

• How bout a natr brk?

Although career breaks may be out of reach for many people, nature breaks are easy.  So are tech breaks!  And the ink keeps flowing on the healthful benefits of getting off your butt, getting outside, and doing something—anything!  Garden!  Bike!  Build a birdhouse!  Chase some rabbits!

Teens are smart; how else can they figure out all those devices?  Let’s hope they’re also smart enough to take off the headphones, put down the cellphones, and dig some real dirt once and a while.

Most people admit to fantasizing about a career break, but then claim they can’t do it due to the obvious obstacles—including that they are too busy.  They don’t have TIME.

But if people have so little time to plan their cherished dream, how do they have countless hours to publicize the minutiae of their existence on Facebook?

• WWMMD?

Miss Manners, that celebrated grande dame of etiquette, recently commented that she does not “like” some elements of Facebook—particularly when self-interested bores feel a need to update the world about their naps, oil changes, and grumpiness.   This Miss Manners follower could hardly agree more.

• TMI or TMF or WTF?

To be sure, Facebook could be charming—if only one could gather one’s wittiest friends for the occasional connection in the clouds.  But as Miss Manners suggests, FB has quickly become like the cocktail party at which some dullard corners you, gasses you, and won’t stop.

Miss Manners reminds us not just to speak (or should I say “post”), but also to listen (and then, at times, “comment”).  Oh my, what a glorious gathering FB could be if all our “friends” had more to offer the world than, for example, “Get into me.”

One has to be totally besotted with someone else to be fascinated by the mundane details of that person’s everyday life—as indeed, bores are with themselves.”

• Remember REAL faces—and REAL books?!

Will Facebook remain the new, happening thing ad nauseum?  Or will this trend eventually drop away like the pet rock?  No one knows—not even the divine (though not divinatory) Miss M.

Meanwhile, this gentleman endeavors to limit the time-drift that can transpire when studying “friends’” frivolities on FB, yet keep a well-mannered toe in its curious waters.

One also hopes that, ultimately, we might favor REAL faces, cherish time with REAL friends, and even enjoy a REAL book whenever possible.  Who knows?  Perhaps, with such judicious focus, we might even be able to REAL-ize a REAL BreakAway someday.

The news about 3D becoming commonplace is making the world all agog—and a-goggle.  Soon, even mobile digitalia images will jump off the screen.

Nintendo’s handheld 3D game arrives next month.  Sharp’s 3D smart phone shows up any day.  And 3D home theater systems will soon be de rigeur in every McMansion worth its stucco.

Oh sure, I’m a sucker for 3D movies when at the cine-mall—never mind the unfortunate up-charge.  Watching those meatballs fall from the sky (or whatever) boggles the senses.  Watching the smile (or sometimes, the scream) from my daughter thrills a dad any old day.

Still, the fuss seems sorta silly.

• After all, reality has been in 3D since Day One—eons before screen innovators found a way to imitate the magic.

One can only hope that the digitally addicted will not forget how to admire a sculpture, climb a tree, or explore a new neighborhood.

3D miracles still surround us in reality, too.  24/7.