Mondays with Mike: The walking dead

Back when cell phones were relatively new, I was routinely, involuntarily made privy to half a conversation — in elevators, checkout lines, restaurants, and just walking down the sidewalk. I still remember just passing a woman on my block and hearing her, quite loudly, say “Well, don’t tell anyone, but she has breast cancer.”

A polite Zombie always pays attention.

Most people seem to have gotten the memo on this kind of thing. But then again, with ever changing technology, cell phone etiquette is like Whack-A-Mole. There’s the simply rude behavior (guilty as charged) of not putting it away. But there’s also the dangerous stuff where people fall off cliffs in an effort to get just the right photo, they’re texting and driving, and a newish behavior that seems to be proliferating. It’s what I call Zombie Cell Phone Walkers.

It happens all the time where we live. I’m walking down the sidewalk and will spot someone walking toward me in the opposite direction. The person doesn’t seem to notice that we’re headed for a collision, and then I see that it’s because she or he is holding a phone and is glued to it.

Mostly, as we get really close to one another, the Zombie Cell Phone Walker will notice me (or other objects) and veer at the last minute. But not always. I’ve had to jump out of the way in some cases, and in others, well, there has been contact. (OK, once or twice I kind of enjoyed scaring the bejesus out of the Zombie.)

The worst case? Backward Zombie Cell Phone Walking. Yep, that’s a thing. The other day I was walking with Beth, without Whitney. I was playing sighted guide, and Beth brought her white cane and held it in front of her. She doesn’t really use her white cane when she’s on my elbow, but it really helps me out. It clues in oncoming pedestrians that we can’t maneuver as easily or quickly as they expect.

That only works, of course, if they’re looking forward, and not at their phone. The other day, on State Street, as we walked north, we experienced double stupid: a young man approached us walking south, walking backward, oblivious to anyone but his girlfriend, whom he videotaped as he walked backward.

I couldn’t believe it—I even yelled, but he was completely into, well, himself. So I decided to play “I’m a wall and you’re not.” I planted my feet and let him run into me and bounce off.  He turned, looked a little bewildered, saw the white cane, then turned around and started walking backward again.

You never have a chain saw when you need one.

Then there is the Stationary Cell Phone Zombie. They stop. At turnstiles. At the bottom of stairways. At crowded intersections. To, you know, finish reading that text. Or that article. Or who knows what. But whatever it is, it’s important. Important enough to disregard everyone and everything else around them.

With any luck, and a few unfortunate accidents, this too will pass. I can only imagine what will replace it.