What Does It Take To Put Your Phone Down?
We miss out on life’s best moments because we’re thinking of how to describe them in a caption.
I rarely go out much anymore. After a 60+ hour work week, a hard-headed dog, and being a writing ass writer, I’m exhausted when Friday rolls around.
Last night, though, a friend had finally found time to celebrate his new promotion. I pulled out the good cologne and one of my overpriced cardigans to ensure I’d blend in with the trendy crowd on K Street.
My time living in metropolises has taught me that waiting in line for anything beyond ten minutes will automatically humble you. Outside, you might be important and high at the totem pole of your social circle. But the line outside the club is always the great equalizer.
As we all settled into the cushy furniture, a tentative young lady came to offer the Bar Bites menu. I took part in the celebration, a tumbler of Coca Cola on ice in hand, as people came up to my homeboy. Fellas dapped him up. Women hugged him. The commonality in the familiar acknowledgements was his cell phone being in his hand.
In fact, he never put his phone down once.
I noticed this detail because not one time did he ask me to take a group picture for him. If he wasn’t engaged in conversation, he was looking down at his iPhone screen. Presumably, switching between Instagram and Snapchat; all the while focused on documenting a pretty good time.
I couldn’t help but wonder how often do we allow ourselves to indulge in experiences as they’re happening?
My social media is relatively dull by general standards. It reflects my lifestyle and my interests; God, fitness/sports, and good food. I don’t take many selfies. I have my own insecurities about that. Lately, I’m getting more comfortable with the occasional selfie here and there.
Today, I considered how social media has affected (read: ruined) how we date.
Quick story: I went on an old-fashioned blind date a few months ago. We knew nothing about each other than names and that we had a mutual friend who set it all up. From the time we walked in the restaurant to the time we got into the Uber to the time we grabbed dessert at this cafe, her phone was out. What was she doing? Taking pictures in order to make a #datenight collage later. When I asked her not to do that, it was if I’d told her the earth is flat.
The conversation was dominated by pop culture, trending topics, and general small talk about things I couldn’t care less about. I let her guide the conversation once my serious questions were getting laughed off. My interest was killed before it ever got a chance to develop. I’m sure she was oblivious that her inability to put her phone away was a contributing factor.
Without recognizing it, our phones can become the barriers to great human interactions.
We tend to see the watch the world happen through our phones. You can go to any concert of any genre of music and see hundreds of people watching their favorite artist from a seven inch screen. I honestly didn’t know this was a real thing until I went to a Jay Z concert at Yankee Stadium.
From the opening notes of Justin Timberlake crooning over “Magna Carta (Holy Grail)” to Hov’s final number of “Forever Young”, people around me were throwing up their hands and doing aggressive rap hands to every record while firmly grasping their phones; intermittently coming out of the moment to press “play” to start recording another video clip.
Why do we do this?
Is it because we want to make anyone who wasn’t there secure in their FOMO? Is it because we want to be able to replay the moment later? Or is it because we take for granted our access to life’s best moments?
I don’t know.
What I do know is that it seems to take a lot for people to stay engaged with what’s happening in front of them. As Paul Cantor succinctly described — sometimes the attention we pay to capturing the perfect photo is what takes us out of the perfect moment we’re living.
