Six Billion Degrees of Separation

Most everyone has heard of Six Degrees of Separation. So had I, but - I couldn't tell you exactly what it was. So I wik'd it. And - I still can't tell you exactly what it is. But I now know that it is or was 1. a play, 2. a Facebook application, and 3. a game of some sort involving actor Kevin Bacon. I still don't get that part of it, but I digress.

Six Degrees of Separation is also a theory which basically postulates that if Person A knows Person B, and Person B knows Person C, and Person C knows Person D, and Person D knows Person E, then Person A must know Person E. (You can substitute colors or General Motors car models for the letters - it works out the same.) Of course like any theory, this one had to be tested. And tested it was. And - is still being tested. Theorists, mathematicians, and psychologists chose up sides to argue either for or against the validity of the theory. And, while interesting enough, the point of the theory is in my opinion, moot.

Growing up in a small city in Southwest Virginia, we had three radio stations: rock, country and what they used to call easy listening (Tony Bennett and Henry Mancini and the like). There were three TV channels. So, at any given time I could usually tell with some degree of certainty what TV show my neighbors were watching, or to what radio station the car going down the street was tuned. There was one newspaper, so everybody got the same slant on everything. And, since it was such a small city, the six degrees theory would absolutely have proven true there; it was probably closer to three or four degrees.

In other words, we were connected by the sameness, the sheer banality of our existence.

But that is not my point.

Today there are thousands of TV and radio stations. There's the internet. There are billions of hexadecimal bits of voice, data, and images pinging off satellites every second of every day. People located on three different continents can engage in a web meeting, each seeing and hearing the other as if they were in the next room. Today, when you take photos of your vacation, you do not have to wait until you're back home and the photos are developed so you can have everyone over to watch "slides". Thanks to cell phone cameras, your friends and co-workers can see them in real-time. As it's happening. Today I could not begin to tell you what TV station my neighbors are watching, or if they're listening to their iPod, or playing online Scrabble with 1,500 other people. Today, there are dozens of social networking sites where people can catch up on every minute detail of what you are thinking, feeling and doing at any moment. They even give you emoticons to communicate your mood, if you don't feel like typing it out.

But that is also not my point.

Several years back I was driving home from somewhere or another. It was late at night and there was nothing much on the radio. I happened upon a person talking about the unequal relationship between society and technology. He noted that society was foolishly embracing technology as some kind of ethereal, benevolent savior. Foolishly because, as he noted, society needs technology, whereas technology does not need society. Technology is decidedly not human, and we of course are 100% human. Technology does not need food, water, or an HMO. It does not care if the power grid on the East coast of the United States goes down, or if a computer virus infects tens of thousands of users. Technology will not shed the first tear if every satellite, receiver, transponder, router and iPhone simultaneously burst into flames. Yet we cling to the belief that technology has somehow brought us - the roughly six billion inhabitants of planet Earth - closer together.

Whereas I believe the exact opposite is true.

It is specifically because we have so many options that we are now more engaged with the technology than we are each other. Because of the aforementioned social networking sites, I know that this or that acquaintance had a "bad day", but often I do not have the opportunity to look into that person's eyes and relate - one human being to another - to their angst. Or that another downloaded a song from their favorite artist, but we will not sit on opposite ends of a sofa and listen, with one or the other (or both) breaking into an air guitar solo.

Don't get me wrong - I think it's great that we have the technology. We can post photos and videos, and send little messages to each other. We can engage in general silliness or send heartfelt best wishes or condolences. But what's missing here is the human touch, and we humans like physical contact. We are a touchy-feely species.

So here we are, the roughly six billion inhabitants of planet Earth, enveloped within a virtual blizzard of electromagnetic waves, but in many ways further apart than at any other time in history. But, there are things we can do. Look up that friend that lives across town and invite them to lunch. Have your parents or in-laws over for dinner. Take a batch of fresh-baked cookies (or a pitcher of margaritas) to that neighbor you occasionally nod to over the backyard fence. Turn off the TV, log off the computer, turn off the cell phone. Get out. Go for a walk, and smile at anyone you may encounter along the way. Go to a park. Give your spouse or child or significant other a hug and a kiss the next time you see them. Tell them what they mean to you. Help a child with their homework, or an elderly neighbor with their yardwork. Do volunteer work at a retirement home, or hospital or hospice. And know that although you are but one of six billion, every day you have an opportunity to enrich other's lives, to connect on a personal level, to become more human.

And then - then you'll know that the number of degrees which separates us has been reduced by one.

Read This Blog or a Kitten Dies

The other day, I accidently saw a TV commercial. I say accidently because I almost always change the channel (or at least mute the sound) when a TV commercial comes on, but this one slipped through the net somehow. Anyway, this particular commercial started out informing me - the intended consumer - about some disease I'd never heard of which affects this or that percent of people in some country I'd never heard of. But - hope abounds - because the company pitching this particular product went on to inform me that they would donate this or that percentage from the sales of this particular product for research to find a cure for this disease, the name of which somehow escaped me. The unmistakable message here: Buy our product or someone will die.

It reminded me of another TV commercial for life insurance which was in "heavy rotation" a few months back. The spokesman for this commercial wanted to talk about a man we'll call Fred, and about how Fred just knew he should buy life insurance; he just knew it. Like a caterpillar knows to become a butterfly, like a man with rheumatoid arthritis knows when it's going to rain, like Tiger Woods knows to lay up short when facing a crosswind into a sloping green protected by bunkers on three sides. But sadly, Fred never bought life insurance. And now he's dead. Dead like Sheboygan, Wisconsin at midnight, like the Susan B. Anthony dollar, like the WNBA. Stone cold, in-the-ground dead. Stupid, irresponsible Fred. His poor widow is probably living in a refrigerator box down by the interstate and rummaging through Walmart dumpsters for food and end-of-season clothing. Dumb, dumb Fred. Don't be like Fred. Buy life insurance. Buy lots and lots of life insurance. Now. Before it's too late.

Among the more annoying TV commercials are the ones which attempt to appeal to me - the intended consumer - in a folksy, we're-all-the-same manner. Like the restaurant chain which implies that once you cross their threshold, you somehow, magically become related by blood to them. Well, I went down there once, and not one of them recognized me. Furthermore, none of them remembered the Christmas that uncle Edgar got drunk and knocked the tree over and threw up in the green bean casserole, or the time cousin Daryl had to go to reform school for doing that thing with the cow. They were certainly not my family. And - the breadsticks were greasy.

But, with the economy so far down the toilet even a pipe snake can't get to it, many companies are resorting to fear tactics to sell their products. Don't get me wrong - they're not coming right out and saying you'll contract some mysterious illness which causes your skin to turn green and fall off in brick-sized chunks if you don't use their moisturizer, but why take chances? They understand how frustrated you are that you've lost 75% of your retirement nest egg, but won't you feel like a total doofus if the stock market does claw itself out of the grave and make a come-back? And you having dumped all your money into Euros and male enhancement products. Stupid, stupid investor. Dumb, dumb consumer.

In related news, The Cash You Could Be Saving With That Unnamed Auto Insurance Company was mugged at a bus stop in San Luis Obispo, California earlier today. Said one witness: "I knew it was going to happen. You can't walk around flashing green like that long before somebody gonna knock you in your head".

Finally, can you say with absolute certainty that you do have enough life insurance?