My rowboat slipped quietly to the dock, as usual, the dogs were excited to disembark and get about the most critical of dog business,
checking to see who left new scents during their absence.
The husky, Jaz, whined while Vic snorted as they both scramble out onto the dock claws scratching on the dock boards as I held their leashes in check. The low water level makes it a bit of a challenge for me to get up on the dock and as I straighten up to look around for any incoming dog company, none to be seen so we start clomping down the galley-way only to pull up short to take in the weird sight confronting us. It appears time has stopped!
No one is moving at this ordinarily bustling village boat landing. There are tourists scattered about, but they are all frozen in place staring at these odd small rectangles held in the hands. Even their small designer dogs are stopped stiffly at leash end. Did I row us into another dimension or perhaps a Twilight Zone where time stands still? My head snaps a look back from where we came, and to my relief, all appears normal. The beautiful sunrise glistening on the rippling blue waves, gulls circling on the thermals, and pelicans are fishing. Other bird songs are dripping like jeweled droplets all around. Yet, all these folks appear oblivious to sights, smells and sounds all around them. Are all these folks unaware of the surrounding real world or is it distasteful causing the life in the screen to be more comfortable? I do not know, except to accept the old cliche “to each their own.”
During my youth before screens became so ubiquitous an old, philosophical sage warned that screens would become windows of reality to those who spend too much time looking through them. The human mind and eye would lose interest peering out of real windows. A few years ago I thought of him and his insight again while turkey hunting with a buddy. A blabbermouth gobbler was sounding off nonstop on his to our set up. As usual, the tom was coming into my calls from behind, but no problem, my buddy is sitting at the backside of the tree.
As the gobbles sent sparks of excitement deep into my hunting soul, surely a shot will ring out soon. The turkey was very close and moving around to my weak side, his head pulsing the colors of mating excitement. Still, no gunfire. What the heck, did my sidekick fall asleep, enjoying the moment or is he being generous, letting the shot come to me? OK, whatever I am ready. The strutter finally gets clear in front of my gun barrel. At the roar, in my peripheral vision, I see something odd flying in the air, and my fellow turkey hunter lets out a shriek. It turns out he had earbuds in while watching a turkey hunting video. He thought all the gobbling was from the video and never looked up from the screen. Watching a hunting video while hunting!? As I have come to understand watching a phone has become a standard hunting procedure.
“To each their own…”