I can't hear you

Literally, I can't hear you.

My hearing isn't all that great as many people can attest to.  However, there is a distinct lack of conversing going on.  The moment I step onto my 8:17 am train from East Weymouth an eerie silence falls over me yet I'm surrounded by what I think are living beings.  Jury is still out on that last part.   

The train in generally packed so you're lucky if you grab a seat.  While getting settled, it's highly advisable to not make any startling movements, look others in the eye and under not circumstances, do not speak as I've found this rare breed of homo erectus to be highly irritated by noises not produced by ear buds and Pandora.

Just put your head down, play Bad Piggies or pretend that you're reading cnn.com for the seventh time that morning because may god have mercy on your soul if you disturb someone on their tablet/smart phone.

This isn't normal folks.  It's disturbing.  Without even blinking, I can name a handful of things that I immediately share with my fellow commuters.

- We all live on the South Shore
- We all hate traffic along 3/3A and think that the lights are all timed horribly
- We commute using public transportation
- We are generally working class (upper, upper-middle, middle)
- We all dislike paying $4 per parking spot for an otherwise unused piece of land outside of the hours 7am to 6pm.   

So right there, I have 10-15 things I can talk about.

Where you work, where you live, what do you do for a living, where's your favorite beach, why are there so many Dunkin' Donuts, and why do they call english muffins NEW ENGLAND muffins here in Boston?

(More on this later because this is just odd.  I get it, we have an ego problem up here but Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown and the Red Coats aren't planning another invasion.)

I can generally carry on a conversation with anyone.

Lately I've found it more and more difficult to just randomly strike up conversations.  Every blue moon, I find an exception to which they go the opposite end of the spectrum.  They'll become entirely too excited to talk to which I'll just give them a Vulcan death grip, rest their head against the window, close their eyes and walk away like Jason Bourne.  

We're social animals.  (I use the term animals loosely as I'm sure there are numerous meerkats reading this right now and saying:  "WTF bro, don't put me in the same box as Sean Hannity/Keith Olberman.  FU broski.  I'm going to come find you in Boston, bring my cousin Sal and go all rabies on your face.") 

We're one of the lucky species that gets enjoyment out of being with other people.  The chemicals in our brain and our body literally change when we interact with other carbon-based lifeforms.  

Physically, mentally, emotionally.  We are in constant search for validation of some sort.  But that's where the problem starts.  We've seemed to have gone overboard about self-validation.  Why else would we post how much we love pumpkin lattes from or let people know that they just ate 46 ounces of steak and aren't feeling very good.

"Oh, yum!"  "Dude, that's awesome"  "Your poop is going to be amaze-balls bro"

(There.  I think I just encapsulated 87.9% of all facebook replies in the next week in some form.  Go ahead, look at your Twitter accounts or facebook posts.  I'd wager I'm fairly close.  They're usually some variation of one line replies.   I know I'm guilty of it at times.)

Here's the problem that I have with that. 

#1 - We are entering a new dynamic where we are literally changing the structure of our intricately and highly evolved brains by each passing day.  Sherry Turkle at MIT has done a wonderful job studying.  I highly recommend her research/books. 

#2 - Normal conversations are becoming abnormal. 

 Here's my cro-magnon hypothesis:  We've been gorging on white noise for the short history of facebook, myspace, classmates, twitter, chat rooms (lolwut, chatroomz, you a perp Daniel?) that we've lost the ability to be in the presence of another human being and start conversing.

(Notice that I didn't say talking as conversing requires you to actually hear the other person and respond in like kind and not just spout off "Bears are looking good this year").

This white noise has been packaged in the form of sterile comments with an attempt at adding topical humor or a dash of wit.  Generally, it comes across like a lukewarm bowl of cream of wheat.

So here is what I propose.  Once a week, try to go out of your way and strike up a random conversation.  It's good the soul.  It's good for your brain.  Heck, you might even make a new friend that doesn't exist in the form of binary and html code. 

And no, saying to the cashier at CVS that you forgot your CVS savers card and then asking her to type in your phone number doesn't count.