I see 2-D people

J. Kevin Tumlinson

When I was a kid there was no such thing as the World Wide Web. The Internet was there, but it was largely for government and university use. So, in those days (I make it sound like so long ago!), there was the idea of electronic communication, but the reality hadn't quite caught up to the dream.

The first time I ever chatted with someone online, it was in a game. There were these huge, multiplayer, text based games called MUDs (a nifty acronym for "Multi-User Dungeons"). Basically, it was your run of the mill geek stuff - a bunch of guys and gals running around with swords and spells and strange names. But that wasn't why I played (though I am a fully qualified geek). I played because you could chat with people. At 2AM you could be typing a message to someone in Australia. Now that's cool.

Of course, today that's nothing. Every computer in America can do that. Heck, while I'm in the process of typing this column, I'm occasionally interrupted by someone on one of my "Buddy Lists," wanting to know what my plans are later. The Web has changed the world, and what was once rare and exciting is now so common place that I routinely give out my e-mail address instead of my phone number.

Recently, I started playing another online game. It reminds me a lot of the MUDs, except this one has graphics. Me and thousands of other players across the globe run around with our nifty nomenclatures, doing battle on the enemy. But me? I'm still really just there for the same old thing. I'm a chatty little guy, online. I like to hear what people are thinking, where they're from, what they do for a living. I think I may be annoying.

The game is really just something that my digital buddies and I have in common - something we share and can talk about readily.

What I've noticed lately, though, is that the MAJORITY of my relationships with others are online. I have a select group of "real world" friends, but I have a growing list of buds that I wouldn't recognize if we passed each other on the street.

At first I was alarmed by this. I made an immediate effort to walk away from the digital dialogue I was constantly engaging in. I went out, went to a café, got some coffee, spent some time… reading. Well, reading is a hard habit to break. But at least I was out among the three-dimensional people, letting the stink get blown off of me. It was nice.

The problem these days, I think, is that we've forgotten how to interact with real people. I say hello to the girl behind the glass at the movie theater and she stares at me vacantly before asking if I need to buy another ticket. I chat with the guy next to me at the gas pump and it's fifty-fifty whether he'll talk to me or just smile and nod. What happened?

So, I guess I'll stick to my 2-D people. They may not have much depth (badump bump), but they're good folks. But don't worry, if we run into each other out on the street, I'll probably smile and say hello. It's my way.

And then I'll give you my e-mail address so we can talk some time.

J. Kevin Tumlinson is a writer and a schoolteacher living in Lake Jackson, TX. He is fully two-dimensional.