🚀 go-pugleaf

BK>SB> I think people feel overwhelmed by the frequency of interpersonal
BK>SB> contact in the contemporary urban world and are trying to
BK>SB> minimize it when they can. I always make a point of making at
BK>SB> least brief eye contact and murmuring "And how are you today?",
BK>SB> then leaving the next move up to the person on the other side of
BK>SB> the counter.

I too try to make human contact at the retail level--from both sides of
the counter--but I find all too often that enquiries after the health of
a stranger lead only to "happyspeak" (or worse, an accurate and thorough
medical review). Still, I believe it is indeed an effort that needs be
made.

BK> During my lifetime I have seen a change. When I was a teenager, it
BK> was still possible to fall into conversation with a stranger, at a
BK> bus stop, say, even in the south where I grew up and the people have
BK> a reputation for keeping to themselves. Nowadays, I find the closed,
BK> defensive faces passing me in the street and jammed up close to me
BK> in the Tube quite pitiful.

You remind me of an experience I had following my move from my native
Los Angeles to Chattanooga. In any such move, some terms, like "Home"
reorient slowly. In my case, this happenened in an instant, and the tale
may be relevant here:

After eighteen months at my new address, I had gone "home" to California
to visit family and squeeze in a little business for tax purposes.
Perforce, I travelled by air. LAX was never a friendly place, even back
when only a 3-foot chainlink fence separated one from the tarmac (and
propwash). On this occasion, the waiting area was under construction and
even more crowded that the plane.

In such situations, the natives of that region wrap themselves in an
insular cocoon of attitude to discourage unwanted human interaction.
True to my breeding, I was sunk deeply into my paperback, scarcely
acknowledging those around me. On the first half of the flight, most all
on board were similarly isolated--striving to be alone in the midst of a
crowded mob.

The flight hubbed in Memphis (and if anybody wants to object to the use
of "hubbed" as a verb, give me a better one--or be prepared for a
diatribe on "deplaned"). Without my moving from my seat, the population
of the cabin changed at that stop from being half Angelano to being half
Chattanoogan. I suppose I noticed a change in the volume and tone of the
conversation, but as I was still in L.A. mode I paid it no heed. No heed
until one of the boarding passengers made an announcement:

"Hey, folks, I've got a rental car and hotel reservation waiting in
downtown Chattanooga, but I don't know how to get there from the
airport. Anybody wanna trade directions for a ride?" Almost at once he
had a full car. I experienced a very small epiphany, and suddenly
changed direction: I was no longer going away from "home", but toward
it.

This is not meant as a p�an to my new residence nor a blast to my old
(exclusively). Since that date, I have tried to take note on my travels
to other cities, and I have discovered a strong correlation between
metropolitan population and impersonalization. To be sure, many cities
break the mould--Pittsburgh is far friendlier and Jackson, Mississippi,
far less than their numbers would suggest--but the trend is pretty
clear.

Perhaps thus it is neither an effect of the "decade of the grouch", nor
the gradual depersonalization of civilization, nor even that we are all
getting grumpier as we approach middle age (Middle Age: a generic term
suggesting an age about 15 years older than the speaker at any given
time). Rather, it may simply be one more unfortunate side effect of
excessive population density.

I could be wrong, but I ain't moving back to L.A. to find out. Comments,
anyone?
---
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Internet: bruce.metcalf@toadhall.com (Bruce Metcalf)
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