Damien Galeone

The two boys have stopped in front of me again. They are on bikes, I am walking. I have already passed them three times. The first two times they had their heads buried in their phones. This third time as I pass they look up from their phones, consult the landscape and mutter to each other and then take off again.

They have not acknowledged my existence once. I could be naked.

Taking a walk around my parents’ neighborhood is always a glimpse into rural Pennsylvania life. The streets are filled with houses and people who would fit perfectly into a light-hearted , cookie-cutter romantic comedy set in rural America. People washing cars and maintaining lawns. Neighbors chatting over white picket fences. People walking dogs. Men stepping out of sedans with their work shirts rolled up to their forearms denoting a long day.

Today there was even a lemonade stand (I had pink).

And these boys. Who do not notice me.

On my fourth pass I manage to glimpse the phone screen and it’s then that I realize why they have yet to notice me. They are Pokemoning, doing Pokemon, chasing Pokemon, being Poked, or whatever verb collocates with Pokemon.

These boys are far from an isolated incident of being near those who are searching for the Pokemons. They are everywhere. Central Park was covered in people looking into their phones and then at the surroundings, then moving away without a word. The sidewalks of downtown Philadelphia, Astoria, Queens, Manhattan, Ocean City were a similar scene.

It was slightly odd. That Pokemon Fever has seriously caught on is the worst kept secret in the civilized world. It has its detractors, the people who roll their eyes and make a comment to the older person next to them that they just can’t believe what the world is coming to. Sometimes that person agrees, sometimes they look into their phones and move towards a bright animal near a tree.

I am Right Smack Dab in the Middle of the demographic who should be rolling their eyes and saying, “back in my day…” followed by an utter and complete falsity. This Pokemon Fever sort of plays into my wheelhouse of Grumpy Old Man-dom.

I do not like that the world stares into their phones all the time. I hate that people (myself included) give what is happening on a screen priority over the human beings around them. And to be sure, I evict a colorful tarpaulin of language when stuck in traffic behind an ass-clown who takes a minute to realize the light has changed.

And I am not the only one.

But isn’t this exactly what we’ve been telling people to do for years? Get up. Get off your ass. Stop playing computer games and get some exercise. Well that is exactly what they are doing. Gobbling Pokemon involves a ton of walking, which means these folks are out and getting exercise. Moreover, this exercise comes with goal-based efforts and problem solving skills. Furthermore, it has been shown to assist people who might otherwise remain antisocial to meet other people. It has been also argued that Hunting Pokemon can help develop brain power as well as deal with stress and other issues.

So maybe the naysayers should just allow that those darn kids (some not kids at all) are finally doing what we’ve been griping about for ages. I’ll just leave them be and go back to my Pogs.