I know we live in an age of refined technology and all that, but I find myself somewhat alarmed by the increasing volume of people around us sheltered by the invisible wall of their iPods. Now you know there's nothing sweeter than music that pleases and inspires you and certainly, it does preoccupy a person's time as they make their way on their commute, but the number of society that shuts itself off from the five senses of life for a good part of their day disturbs me. Are we, the regular folk who pass in and out of the landscape of your day, not interesting enough to secure your sway?

I conducted a highly unscientific survey to see what percentage of the masses that I passed by on a given day were earplugged and fiddling with their slim little sirens. Since this is my methodology, it might be wise to apply a range of error of plus or minus 5%. During a period of a few weeks, I took heed of subway commuters, people on the street, the grazers at Starbucks and the like and calculated that 31% of the populace was ignoring us. Tsk, tsk.

This is not a rant about iPods. I fully understand the desire to fill your head with music that moves you. And I don't wish to prevent the good people at Apple from meeting their profitability margin. What I do object to is the editing out of the fascinating fabric of everyday life. By dominating one sense so fully, you limit the objectivity of the others. You are constructing a wall that makes you inaccessible. As humans, we need the interaction, the silent acknowledgement of our beleaguered kind.

We need our noses clear to smell the air, however noxious. We need our eyes to take in the world around us, whether the people or trees or clouds (which in NYC, you have to put your head back as far as it can go just to see the very sky over the buildings, but it's beautiful just the same). You need your hands to tap the arm of the guy with the iPod in his ears to move slightly over so you can get off the subway. It all comes into play.

I love the interaction with my fellow humans in the course of of my day. I study their reactions, overhear their dialogues, imagine what their lives are like. There's nothing better than to exchange eye contact with people--and by this I mean, a fellow observer of human nature--sometimes to get the odd acknowledgement. I'm thrilled by the person who wishes me a good morning when I walk to work. I revel in the stranger who engages me in a dialogue on the train. And best of all, the fellow commuter who overhears some nonsense (usually inaudibly from the train conductor over a loudspeaker) who will roll their eyes and look about beseechingly for consensus. I dig it.

Today was a perfect fall morning. The season is about to change, but it's resisting the calendar and still wants to dabble in the hallmarks of late summer. The sun was clear and felt warm on the skin, cirrus clouds were strewn across the horizon, there was a pleasant breeze which not only made the air tantalizing and fresh but tickled you about your extremities. Random birdsong was caught in snatches between the odd conversation from people enjoying coffee together.

And you wonder why I can't buy an iPod.