03/18/2010 05:12 am ET | Updated May 25, 2011

The Phone: A Love Story

In a bar, I saw emotion. A woman was comforting her phone. "Oh my God, I thought I had lost you," she said. She appeared to be weeping. She gathered her communication device to her bosom and thanked the bartender profusely for finding it. She walked out, talking to it. I was happy that she had been reunited with her family.

Listening to Talk of the Nation on NPR last week, a good deal of time was spent talking about a phone, Google's new phone. And friends who have abandoned the idea of raising flesh for raising Mac products were giddy with expectation, now that a new Mac baby - the iSlate - has reached the end of its gestation period, and is about to be delivered from Steve Jobs magic womb. Love for gadgets beats love for people, humans, very much like a nineteenth century product.

The human body is old fashioned. Composed of valves and cables, pieces that break easy, organs that play the death march, holes that emit unprompted sounds, and a weak battery power that requires drugs to get it moving in the morning - the body is just not up to the digital age at all. It's time for the quantum leap, and it should be the responsibility of Google and Mac and all the other inventors of modern emotions to come up with the new human - the iMan.

Much like the cash for clunkers program, a person could trade in their outdated heap of body and soul. New plastic parts for those irritable bowels, elastic cords for muscle, personality upgrades for miserable swine. There will be no need to download songs when you can just hear the track inside your I-Brain. Close your eyes and download a movie from Netflix. Watch it on the screen behind your eyelids. No need for coffee, the new battery will last up to twelve hours. Starbucks will go the way of bookshops. Who needs them? Why go to places where people can sneeze on you. Or talk to you.