the owl

This guy’s head has been swinging around so much in the last 20 minutes, I swear it’s going to fall off. Seriously, WHAT are you looking at. Really. Stop it, why don't you, and look at your own damn screen.

OK, relax, Dave. Perhaps some background information is in order. The guy sitting next to me at Caffe Strada has been sitting at the table next to me for like the last 30 minutes. Has his computer open, touch phone on the table charging from his computer, and occasionally types something. I haven’t done the little surreptitious glance over to the side to see what’s on his screen. You could call it manners, and that may be partly true. But partly it’s because he’s constantly looking over this way, and looking over at him would be pretty darn obvious.

So while I was writing that paragraph he was actually somewhat focused, or at least it looked that way. Hadn’t looked up for at least 45 seconds until a group of Korean-speaking friends sat down talking at the table across from us. He straightens up, looking across my front, scanning...looking for someone? Waiting for friends? Scoping the scene? Animated by an other-worldly power as he ponders what to peck into his computer next?

He looks back down at his computer, types a furious burst for about 5 seconds, and then looks straight ahead. To the right. Cocks his head and looks back straight. Rolls up his sleeves and then does a 150-degree swivel to look back over his left shoulder. Then back at his computer for 3 seconds and it starts again.

Really, is this the physical embodiment of all of our attention spans these days? The wired and multi-channeled populace of digital beings, living at least as much through our devices than we do in the physical places where our bodies are placed? Reading my friend Juliette Wade’s recent post on the effects of technology, I’m reminded of how much we have had to adapt ourselves to the digital tools of our daily lives, as much as they have become “smart” and adapted to us. Really, is it necessary for me to have 6 tabs of Firefox open right now?

He leans back and in one smooth motion pulls his laptop off the edge of the table and onto his stomach, and checks his messages on his phone with his left hand. Looks like nothing’s come in. Still. Meanwhile, as he pulls his hood up and looks left, straight, left, straight again, I instinctively downsize the MS Word document I’m typing this blog post into from 125% to 100%. Like he’s looking. Like he cares. But somehow I, with my multiple tabs open and my attention span that is splintered in 10 directions but all within the screen, am unnerved by this guy’s constant shifting of attention on screen, in the cafe [scan left], on screen, in the cafe [scan right], on the phone, in the cafe [straight ahead].

I look at what I’ve written now, this post-to-be, about 500 words in just 5 minutes, that flowed out without my checking email even once.

Wow, what just happened?

[Scan left]