The Best Thing That's Happened to Us Is the Worst.

I'm talking technology. This topic has been simmering for me for a while now, and this morning I actually cried in a subway station as I felt our humanity ebbing away. Not that many people would have noticed my swell of emotion; most of the faces of passers-by were buried in their devices.

Yes, yes—I get the irony that I'm thumb-typing this treatise on my phone. Although I often carry "actual" notebooks, the one I have today is buried deeper in my tote than this rectangular marvel. And it IS a marvel, it truly is. This little device allows me communicate with nearly everyone I've ever met. I can text, email, post on walls, tweet at, and call (although hardly anyone does THAT anymore.) I have more music I could listen to in a day on here. I have the complete works of Shakespeare on here. I have organizational tools, the ability to find the nearest wine bar, and baseball score sheets. I can play games galore (though not Candy Crush—it's too addicting. I kept that one only on my iPad.)

Yes, I also have an iPad. And an iPod. And a Kindle. And a mini tablet (though, to be fair, that was from a free promotion and I've never used it.) I have a portable wifi hotspot and a laptop, because, come on—who doesn't, these days, if you're moderately well-off and live in a big city? It is the norm.

And that's the problem.

In my subway car this morning, there were 14 people. 10 were plugged into their devices. Four merely by headphones, the other 6 (with or without headphones,) transfixed by their screens. No one was looking at each other, except the older gentleman sitting across from me and I shared a brief smile; cue first emotional pang.

In the station itself, I came across a string quartet playing a beautiful piece. I recognized it though couldn't pinpoint the composer. As I was running early, I stepped out of the flow of traffic (which most people walking down the street while staring at their phones are not courteous enough to do, grr,) and stood, enjoying their playing. Was it perfect? No—every so often a wrong note would bend the harmony, but like a ship in swells, it righted itself quickly. The slight imperfections endeared me to them more, as did the fact that not a single player was an old white man.

As I listened, I watched people pass by. Three people put money into the case (yay,) one group of tourists snapped a picture (cute,) and eight plugged-in folks strolled right by, oblivious. And that's when I spontaneously started to cry.

We are turning into a society of people who don't interact humanely anymore. Forget about writing a letter, it's fine to send a text with six abbreviations and an emoji. You don't need to call and have a pleasant catch-up, just "like" my status. Even when we DO meet up in person, look at all the phones on the table. We can't stop documenting our lives for all to see, we can't be away from a text alert or miss a tweet for five minutes.

WE ARE ADDICTED.

And, like many addictions, it is harming us deeply.

Am I saying something here you didn't already know? Unlikely. But if you agree with me that we are collectively heading down the slipperiest of slopes, do me a favor or two:

- Please don't walk down the street staring at your phone. Not only are you missing the beautiful day and maybe that hottie checking you out, but you might not see that errant pile of doggie doo either. If you have to check the address of where you're headed or respond to an emergency, please step off to the side. Check, respond, and then put your phone away. It's a beautiful day.

- Please take one less selfie a week, post one less check-in, tweet one less tweet, avoid one status update, commute headphones-free one day. If you recognize the knee-jerk impulse to constantly plug in, it's a step towards changing a mindless habit.

- Finally—please write a letter, call a friend to get together, take your phone off the table, make eye contact with people, enjoy the beautiful day! Wean off your dependence on these devices a bit.

We can let our marvelous technology work for us in the most amazing way, but only if we don't let it control us. It's really a futuristic sci-fi nightmare... that is actually starting to happen. If you don't believe me, the next time you're on the subway, put your phone the fu¢k away for a second and count all of the people suctioned to theirs. Count the number of people you have to dodge on the sidewalk as they drone forward, oblivious. Count the number of times a brunch companion says, "I just have to check this."

Wake up.

And by all means, PLEASE stop and listen to a lovely string quartet... I guarantee it will do far more for your soul than beating another level of Candy Crush ever will.