With a smartphone I can reach out to hundreds of my 'closest' friends from just about anywhere on the planet. My reach, in the last five years, has significantly improved. At the same time, my grasp on what is near and dear to me has diminished as my focus is either one foot or one thousand feet but rarely anything in between.
Recently, my wife and I climbed aboard a massive metal tube with seats bolted to the floor and jet engines anchored to metal planks which hung off either side. We launched, swiftly, through the air traveling at hundreds of miles per hour to an altitude of... well, all i know is y'all looked like ants... Anyhow, this tube rocketed through the atmosphere for hours before landing abruptly upon a small patch of land somewhere in the middle of the Pacific ocean. There we were, standing upon a spit of land which had sprung up from the ocean depths as a result of billions of years worth of volcanic activity. Animal and plant life, previously unseen by our eyes, flourished in the mid-day sun. New cultures to experience. Vistas of unimaginable beauty. New flavors to sample. A journey, which only recently (compared to mans relative history) had been made possible for the average traveler.
As we marveled in awe, we took a moment to share in the experiences of those who made the same, seemingly-perilous, journey only to find the vast majority transfixed, doe faced, onto the smartphones cradled within their tight grasp. A trend which continued, without fail, for the remainder of our trip.