Earheads everywhere

ONE OF the things I noticed that were just the same in Canada and in England on my recent holiday was that more than half the people in the streets and shops were plugged in to their iPhones or BlackBerries or Tweetmobiles or whatever they’re called.

No matter where I went, people sat at restaurant tables or walked along the pavements or rode in trains or buses with the inevitable white plugs in their ears and vacant expressions on their faces.

I used to say nothing makes a human looks more moronic than the incessant chewing of gum. I’ve changed my mind. Nothing makes a human look more like a robot than having two white cords dangling from his/ her ears.

I sometimes wonder what my parents would have said about this total connectivity that has gripped the human race.

One of the stupidest columns I ever wrote was when cellphones were just becoming available to the public and I said I didn’t think they’d ever really become widely used – okay for doctors or construction workers maybe, I said, but not much use for ordinary folk. How wrong can you be? I confess I am now as hooked as everybody else and I often shock myself to discover how reliant I have become on that little device in my jeans pocket. (I do try, out of politeness, to keep my cellphone use as private as possible. I never answer the phone if I am in a conversation with somebody, for example.)

It wakes me in the morning with its friendly little tune and I turn it on to see what appointments I have for the day. I also have a look at the weather forecast for the day so I can decide what clothes to wear. And while I’m about it, I check on the weather in Canada and England, where my children live.

I take a peek at what’s happening in American and British politics (almost as exciting as our own).

If I decide to have a boiled egg for my breakfast, I tap the phone’s keyboard to set the timer going.

I look at my grocery shopping list on the fridge door and take a quick photo of it (easier than writing it down or copying it).

The phone bleeps to remind me the gardener is coming today, so I tap into my bank account to check whether I have enough cash to pay him.

My friend sends an SMS to remind me I am having lunch with her.

I drive to her security complex and take out my phone to dial in the code that opens the gate.

And all the while the phone is counting the steps I take and reminding me I have set a target of 5 000 steps a day in order to keep me reasonably fit.

I’m beginning to think the only function I can still manage without recourse to that damn little device is to go to the toilet. But watch this space. There will soon be an app for that too, I guess. Last Laugh An elderly man went to his local gym to ask about joining aerobics classes.

“Tell me,” said the trainer, “how flexible are you?”

“Well,” said the man, “I can’t do Wednesdays.”