It takes a lot to amaze me nowadays, but last Saturday I was definitely amazed, stunned even. We were rolling along on our ancient tram in Melbourne when I saw an amazing sight. Two teenagers boarded our tram. They sat down across from us and they began to chat with one another, face to face like.
Not for a few minutes before taking out their phones, but for the entire journey. They talked, they laughed, they looked at one another and nodded or shook their heads. They used body language to communicate.
It was terribly unnerving. To see two young people who weren’t doing their finger exercises on a tiny screen or shouting into their phones made me squirm awkwardly and wonder.
Who were these two young people? Why were they having a conversation face to face, not on Facebook with a million twittering imaginary friends, but with one another as if the whole thing were natural?
Were they from another planet perhaps? Or had their phone accounts run out. Had they forgotten to charge them? Perhaps some catastrophic event had caused them to misplace their phones.
Or was it perhaps my own wishful thinking, a delusion, that had invented something that no longer exists. Genuine conversation minus electronics.