While on an Amtrak train between Philadelphia and New York City, a businessman loudly detailed his company's marketing strategies, conference plans, and other sensitive matters. I finally handed him a piece of paper on which I had bullet-pointed his statements. As a native Angeleno who is now a New Yorker, one of the things I love about living here is the constant human interaction on Manhattan's sidewalks. Glancing eyes meet. Strangers comment to each other about unusual phenomena in the streets.
Pedestrians gasp in unison at spectacular near-collisions between bikes and taxis.
Los Angeles lacks such contact. Nobody walks in L.A., but, more importantly, the windshields in front of drivers' faces remain there mentally even after they leave their cars. Cell phones similarly have begun to isolate New Yorkers from each other. Pedestrians now traverse Gotham's avenues in their own private, metaphorical phone booths, blissfully disconnected from their neighbors and fellow citizens. Cell phones are really high-tech leashes.