A Japanese Drag Queen Walks in the Door....

Not even kidding, the other day, a vintage, Japanese pop-star Drag Queen walked into my store. Here's who I'm talking about:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J136WjKxkbY&feature=related

He/she carried a ceramic she-chicken like a bouquet of flowers before buying a large aluminum abstract painting. It was all very spectacular. Cards were exchanged, I immediately found youtube evidence (see above) of his/her validity and thought about how he/she must feel to be so famous on one island and so anonymous everywhere else. I also thought about his/her translator. The whole interaction was done through her (definitely a her) because, even though the "Frank Sinatra of Japan" (more evidence):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMYiKzPkraQ

had been in the public eye for decades, and traveled and performed throughout the world, he/she still didn't speak enough English to conduct a pretty simple business transaction.... but he/she did have an iPhone. Without the translator, not even I, who has been to Japan, bought Japanese cars, electronics, and sushi, and who fully acknowledges that Asians are taking over the world, I have not even learned enough Japanese to say, "Thank you for spending a few thousand dollars here today."

How did this happen?

This got me thinking about communication and technology and all the wonderments therein.

Technology: the Great Equalizer, Communicator, and Divider.

The Japanese pop-star drag queen just bought a condo around the corner from me, but I will never see her/him again. He'll be in his iPhone and I'll be in my computer. I'll be talking to all of you in English, he'll be connecting with friends in characters.

Sixty years ago, everyone in our neighborhood would know about the new guy/girl and everyone would have an opinion about it. Now, we barely notice. We're busy! We have apps to play with and second cousins in Germany to facebook. We'll be translating and navigating and constantly evolving our new language of inter-web, passing over opportunities to learn dozens of legitimate languages. I've been promising myself to learn some Spanish for years now, but I just don't have time since I'm still trying to work out effectively communicating sarcasm via text message in 160 spaces or less.

What's funny about all of this is that even with my cell phone, lap top, desk top, GPS, and camera, I'm still behind the times. I learned at the Apple store the other day that now you can get all of that in one nifty little hand held device... and more!! I felt really old when I had to ask the 12 year old who works there where the power button was.

Some other side effects of all of this technology that I've noticed include intense awkwardness at cocktail parties. Its almost as though no one really knows how to start up a conversation anymore. Lacking this skill fades the subsequent tradition of courting. Once upon a time, I've heard tell, a gentleman would meet you, send you a cute note and flowers. Then he would actually show up at your door, take you for a "tour of the gardens" and then a few days later, have dinner with your parents. Nowadays, you get excited if he finds you on facebook and you're lucky if you get more than a "hi" via text message (was that a sarcastic "hi"? or was it sincere? Do I just say "hi" back? Would it be weird to ask for a picture because I really don't remember what this guy looks like...).

Are we losing our innate human skills of socialization in exchange for online social networking? Or are we upgrading? Are the subtle nuances of pleasant conversation being lost to phrases like LOL? Or is this truncated version an improvement?

Sixty years ago, before the little "i" was attached to anything, Mr. Fabulous-Japanese-Drag-Queen and I would have considered ourselves neighbors. We only live a few hundred yards from each other. We probably would have found a personable way to communicate, and, I like to think, we would have become friends and exchanged beauty tips. But these days, I'll probably just see him on TV... and wonder what's happened to the ceramic chicken.