Tales of Thankfulness: The Analog Moments That Keep Us Human

"Everybody's talking to computers,

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They're all dancing to a drum machine."

- Rick Springfield, "Human Touch"

In our increasingly digital world, we seem to be losing touch with the most basic elements of human interaction. In texts, we compress our thoughts to the fewest possible characters, with punctuation viewed as an extravagance. Social media provides a veil of anonymity that lets us speak freely, uninhibited by concern about the emotional baggage our words may carry. AI provides a platform for conversation with a partner stripped of ego and wired to flatter ours.

In the end, we are still analog beings, with a need for human interaction built into our DNA. Losing touch with the tools we use to smooth the interactions between our fellow travelers and us through life can ultimately threaten our emotional well-being, as shown by the rising rates of mental health interventions.

Interaction with other humans is not a luxury; it is a fundamental necessity.

As the digital world encroaches, words like "thank you" have become quaint. It is as if their importance has been forgotten. In the spirit of keeping them alive, I offer these tales of thankfulness:

Gratitude Is a Loop Worth Repeating

It was an ordinary Sunday as I knocked items off my "Honey Do" list, listening to music in my headphones at a volume that was probably too loud and contemplating the state of the universe. Suddenly, my visit to my fortress of solitude was interrupted by a blue-gray van pulling into my driveway. The Amazon driver hopped out and took a few steps to deliver my wife's latest order to the front door.

Instinctively, I pulled my headphones off my ears and said, "Thank you."

The driver hopped back in his van in what should have been the normal ending to this exchange. Instead, he got back out of the van to say:

"I don't get many 'thank yous' during my day, so I just wanted you to know I appreciated it."

Essentially, he was thanking me for a "thank you." In programming, infinite loops are something to be avoided, but in the real world, this felt like a loop I wouldn't mind being caught in.

Something's Missing

Since it was Halloween night, the audience at New York's historic Radio City Music Hall was particularly festive. Co-headliner Cheap Trick had primed the crowd, and now they waited for John Waite to take the stage, fresh off his number-one hit, "Missing You." No one was more excited than the girl sitting near the front of the stage, a huge bouquet of flowers in hand.

As the lights went down, she eagerly waited for her chance to hand them to the singer. When Waite finally reached her, he took the bouquet from her hands. He then walked across the stage and threw them back into the crowd.

Forty years later, this regifting is what dominates my memory of the evening. I wonder how this lack of appreciation affected the fan's evening. Was she content with the glancing touch as Waite grabbed the flowers, or did watching him throw them back like a fish too small for the minimum weight diminish her fandom?

Waite had spent seven years chasing fame with The Babys. Having achieved new levels of success with his solo career, one would have thought that acknowledging a devoted fan would have come more naturally.

Wait for a More Inspirational Tale

White Lion may have been the opener on a three-band bill at the Beacon Theatre, but their star was quickly rising. Ace Frehley may have been a legend and Y&T the headliner, but their second album was getting traction off the single "Wait." They were returning to their hometown of New York City as conquering heroes.

Throughout the band's set, singer Mike Tramp acknowledged the fan holding flowers, but never actually took them from her. As the last song approached, he reached out toward her, but did not take them. Instead, he rubbed her arm, looked into her eyes, and sang the verse directly to her. He then took the bouquet from her.

While Waite had tossed his token of gratitude aside, Tramp was more delicate with his. He motioned for a roadie, who took the flowers from him and brought them backstage.

Despite the freshness of his fame, or perhaps because of it, Tramp showed through his actions how thankful he was for the gifts from a fan. It was a physical act that can never be recreated in the digital realm.

"You move me

You move me"

- Rush, "The Analog Kid"

As screens play an increasingly dominant part of our lives, these types of analog interactions are what will keep us human. Reciprocal acknowledgement of our shared presence, or a singer cutting through the crowd to focus on one fan's gesture, is a reminder that connections are built on the smallest exchanges. Sometimes, all it takes to bridge the gap between us is two words: thank you.

Carl Petersen is a former Green Party candidate for the LAUSD School Board and a longtime advocate for public education and special needs families. Now based in Washington State, he writes about politics, culture, and their intersections at TheDifrntDrmr.