Face to Face

Yesterday my nephew, who is 16, had major surgery.

The family waited in the waiting room. Parents bit their nails, grandparents paced, the aunt and uncle (that's me and my husband) did our best to fetch waters and ease tension.

About an hour before the boy was expected to awaken in the recovery room, the waiting room suddenly swelled with an influx of teenagers. School was out Friday for teacher's workday and these youth were my nephew's friends.

There were seven of them. The boys were lanky and tall; my nephew's best friend towered over me as he stood there fresh-faced with a curly mop of red hair. Two gum-smacking girls, each looking pretty much like they had recently woke up, trailed along. Another boy had a buzz cut and proclaimed the loss of his long hair the best thing he'd ever had happen as he tousled the hair of the youngest nephew (that one sat with the earphones to his iPod firmly in place).

The young people greeted the family with perfunctory nods, except for the best friend who very politely made conversation and even shook hands. The aunt and uncle, whom they did not know, and the grandparents, were basically ignored after every one nodded and said hello. At least they spoke.

The noise level in the waiting room rose exponentially with their entrance, and it wasn't long before the grandparents retreated to the safety and relative quiet of a restaurant. (They had their cellphones; we could call them when they could see the boy.)

And so it was that I, a woman with no children who does not spend a lot of time around youth in gaggles or large numbers, found out that young people do not talk to one another anymore.

To my amazement, these youth carried on conversations with one another ... through their cellphones. Even though they were sitting together, side by side, thighs practically touching. They were talking and chattering like birds awaiting dinner, and the entire time their thumbs were flying across the face of their phones. Occasionally the verbiage was interrupted by a song as someone received a call.

But they were not speaking to one another in person. Or so it seemed. They were talking into their phones and texting and occasionally slapping their neighbor on the shoulder, but I witnessed no real conversation between any of the young people who were actually standing in the same room.

For the entire hour, this was the way it was. They communicated through devices. Sometimes they took pictures of one another, showed them around, and laughed.

Finally my sister-in-law went back to check on her son, having been told he was awake. Shortly thereafter, his best friend answered a little "tweedle dee dee" noise on his phone. "E. says for us to go to lunch; he can't have us all in there yet because he is not in his room," the boy announced.

My husband and I looked at each other, astonished.

My sister-in-law returned. "E. wants his cell phone," she said, reaching into her bag. "He grabbed mine as soon as I entered the room."

I am pretty sure his cell phone has not left his hands since.

I am wondering what these young people do when they actually have to speak to a person... in person. Do they put their hands in their pockets and have their fingers moving the entire time as they talk, as if using those phones?

Cellphones, it seems, have turned into mini-computers, allowing the young people to communicate in this rather different way. Is this bad? Is this good?

Beats me. I just use my cellphone to call home to see if I need to buy bread. I still use it... as a phone.