ALWAYS-ON CONNECTIVITY FOR DUMMIES
By "Dinosaur" Dougie

Let me illustrate: #1.

         One of my more versatile masseuses calls me a couple of nights ago, and wants to make an appointment to come over to the apartment.   All of a sudden, without the slightest preamble, she's speaking in Isarn.   WTF?   Then it dawns on me that she's now talking to her girlfriend there beside her, but still talking into her hand phone.
         "Hello, .....hello...," I call out into my hand phone.   No response from her.
         Then she says, this time not in Isarn - but in Border Khmer, and still speaking into her hand phone, "Oh I like this song, it's by BodySlam."   Obviously, she is not talking to me, but I have not the slightest idea to whom she is talking.   She then starts singing along, ala karaoke, to some song I can almost hear in the mish-mash of Bangkok's thrumming traffic noises and the ever present, almost-white urban hiss.
         "Hello....," I call out again.
         No reply, at least not to me.   But as her hand phone is still up to her ear, I hear her loud and clear as she now greets a group of potential customers, in Japanese, who are walking past her massage parlor.   
         "Hello?" I call out - yet again in vain.
         Eventually she says, this time apparently to me, "Hello?   Hello, Dougie, are you there?....   Dougie?
         I hang up.
         She calls back, angry.   "Dougie, why did you hang up on me?!"
         This is all my fault of course - I am living in some distant, long-gone era; I am way past it : I just don't get it.   This is disjointed, overlapping form of simultaneous communications is accepted, nay, standard conduct with the "Always-On Generation" of today.   She wonders out loud what is wrong with me, why am I getting hostile?

Let me illustrate: #2.

         I get into a taxi the other evening and the youngish driver asks me where I want to go. I only speak Thai when out of the apartment, or when I have ying over, so I reply to the taxi driver, in Thai, to take me to Soi Cowboy.
         He then says, in Thai, "No, I'm working now, and I am in the Sukhumvit area - I will get something to eat in a few minutes."   Then, he laughs.
         I again say to myself, 'WTF?'   Did I miss something?
         I start to formulate some kind of a reply, but he's already talking again.   I then see the button in his ear and realize he's hands-free on his mobile phone talking to his old lady, so I shut the fuck up.   We are deep in weekend traffic, and there is a full 12 - 15 minutes of total silence, then he starts talking to the old lady again - they have been on the phone the whole time, but not talking - just staying contentedly 'connected'.   Really.   Hey, why in Keerist's name would anyone want to hang up (?), the button is still in his ear....
         Three minutes of total silence later, he then says, still in Thai, "Left hand side."   It wasn't a question; I think he's still talking to his old lady, so I don't reply.   Minding my own business.
         He then gets irritated, stares at me and raises his voice, "Do you want to get off on the left hand side or the right hand side?!"   Like, I'm supposed to know when he's talking to me, and when he's talking to his fucking old lady.....?!
         I'm pissed off, but I keep it fairly well under control.   I give him my death-mask grin, all teeth and no smile.   Nevertheless, in spite of my best efforts, my voice remains raspy, "When you are off the fucking phone, then you talk to me."
         He cools down somewhat, but sees nothing unusual in his behavior - it is totally my fault for not understanding the new rules for ''Always-On Connectivity'', and for not being able to differentiate between conversations.

Let me illustrate: #3.

         I am jogging past the front of the Queen's Park Plaza the other evening, and ahead of me, walking towards me is some giant - in his early 20's, his head down.   He is busy texting.   A young thing in a mini-skirt is clutching at his elbow with one hand in an attempt to steady him.   In her other hand is her muu-tuu, up to her ear - while she talks on the phone to god-only-knows-who.   (Or is it, '-whom'?)   They are navigating a course of proverbial drunken sailors, in the general direction of the bar beers, but no problem, they are not in my flight path.   
         Suddenly, he swerves away from his mini-skirted seeing-eye-dog, stepping right in front of me, head still down, texting.   I say to myself, this is going to hurt me more than it will him; he's got at least 40 pounds on me - but, suck it up, bucko, because there is no backing down.
         He, however, is relaxed, whereas I am tensed, and have my balance.
         Smack!   The guy is spun around a complete 360 degrees, and then staggers around another 180 degrees to glare back in my direction.   They are glaring at me - she is still on her cell phone.   I've got my head down, continuing on in a straight line.   I don't yield to texters.   That should be my next goddam bumper sticker.

      Well, enough of my 'illustrations', but make no mistake - these young people today are different than we are.   These digitally dumbed-down techno-groupies truly believe they are multi-tasking.   .....Not.   They are half-assed tasking - at the very best of moments, and the average attention span can be measured in parts of nanoseconds.   But to them, I am the dinosaur.   I am the knuckle-dragging Cro-Magnon who uses the phone to make a call, who communicates briefly, then hangs up.   I mean, they look at my behavior and say, "How weird is that?"

         For some time now, I have had a rule with masseuses and visiting ying.   Once the massage starts, once inside the bedroom, once in the shower, the hand phone gets switched off.   Period.   (Yes, one young ying who came to visit at the apartment was actually buck naked, under the shower, and talking on her hand phone in animated fashion to one of her 'customers'.)   I stick by this rule, and actually have had to throw a couple ying out of the apartment (giving them ample time to get dressed, of course).   Did I mention earlier that I can be, on occasion, an extremely abrupt dinosaur?   ...Even if I do say so myself.

- Copyright - "Dinosaur Dougie", January 2011