A little boy wants his mom to come outside and watch him do a trick on his bike.
In high school, he wants her to watch him play ball, but what he really wants is to impress a girl.
In college, mom has fallen off the radar, but there is a girl. He’s desperate for her to pay him some attention.
Marriage doesn’t change any of that.
He wants his wife to pay attention, but unfortunately, his tricks may no longer be worth watching. Much.
From our childhood to the grave we’re all craving attention. It’s the stuff of building relationships.
Not just at home, but at work. In our social circles. Even online. Only the lonely know the way I feel.
Years ago my wife and I stepped out one evening to grab a bite to eat. Across the way was an older couple. Yeah, even older than us!
They were already sitting down when we walked in. We were there for just under an hour. The entire time – and I mean, the ENTIRE time – she was on her cell phone talking while her husband sat in silence.
Their food arrived and she ate while holding the cell phone to her ear. Quietly, her husband ate his meal while she was apparently fully engaged with whomever was on the other end of the line. As they exited the restaurant, she was still talking on the phone, leading the way out the door, with her husband quietly in tow. My wife and I marveled at it and wondered a few things. Who was she talking to? What kind of cell phone plan did she have? Serious questions.
I was reminded of a John Prine song with these lyrics, “How the h-ll can a man leave home in morning, come home in the evening, and have nothin’ to say?” (You’ve likely heard the Bonnie Raitt version, but John wrote it)
It’s now very common among people of all ages. It happens in restaurants. It happens at the table in our own homes. Electronic connections have disconnected us physically.
It’s getting tough out here though. Much tougher than it used to be. Maybe it’s time to re-evaluate what we’re doing…and more importantly, what we’re failing to do.
Meanwhile, in my ears ring the lyrics to Angel From Montgomery.
P.S. No, I didn’t lose my wife to her iPhone, but I do often have to compete with Words-With-Friends. 😉