Terminally connected?

How is it that a society that is 'terminally connected' can be filled with people who consistently feel disconnected from everyone and everything? This evening, at the grocery store, the lady in front of me in line actually ended her call when it was her time to check out, evidently because she thought it was rude to carry on her conversation instead of addressing the checker as an actual person. The most amazing thing to me was not that she did it, but rather that I was SURPRISED when she did! Driving yesterday on I-495 (commonly called "the beltway" -- sane drivers should avoid it at ALL costs, which is exactly why I was there!), every SINGLE driver that I passed was busy chatting on their mobile phones. Most of them, unfortunately, were not utilizing the handy tool that some innovative soul created to keep the hands free for more useful tasks such as avoiding the crazy angry lady in the next lane who is gesticulating that you should hang up your phone until you purchase an earpiece! Why is it that when I joined the military (not even 19 years ago... WHY does that sound like SOOO long ago???) NO ONE that I knew had a mobile phone, and now I don't know a single soul who does NOT have one??? Add to that the number of people who are not capable of entering a D.C. area metro without the assistance of tiny buds placed in their ears. These buds seemingly send a constant stream of music (or - in some cases - profanity and derogatory phrases, and in others, Spanish lessons ) into the ears, but I know that their real purpose is merely to deter anyone from attempting actual conversation. After all, what sane individual would actually want to engage in conversation with other riders on the metro???? Two days ago, I stood at the metro station near my home, with my 'earbuds' already pre-positioned to avoid unwanted conversation (I had already been briefed that this was expected) when a young black man approached me and smiled. Instinctively, I smiled back. He said "I like your shoes" and reached down to pull up my pants leg. I thought it strange, but for some reason he didn't seem at all threatening and I didn't pull away. He looked up at me with the most angelic smile and said "blue socks". He then introduced himself as Brandon and shook my hand. I told him my name and felt more uplifted than I have in a very, very long time. I knew from a few tell-tale signs that Brandon was what is currently known as "developmentally challenged", but it reminded me that - even in Washington, D.C., there are people with a heart. My meeting with this wonderful soul reminded me that it is STILL okay to say hello and smile, even if people look at you funny when you do. Where I am "from" (born in Georgia, raised in Alabama), everyone always said hello and smiled at those who passed by. Everyone called you "sugar" or "honey" and never meant anything offensive or sexual at all by it. Some may say that all the pleasantries are fake, but I don't think so. When you are raised to be pleasant to strangers, you remain pleasant to strangers. Which is why I will search every day for Brandon. I hope that I see him again, and if I don't, I truly wish him well!