What happened to our conversations?

There's a new report out this week that concludes 74 percent of teens would opt for a digital conversation over a real, face-to-face conversation.

I'm not necessarily surprised by the survey results. But it does point to a trend that is somehow concerning.

In our quest for the latest techno gadget, we have all but abandoned the personal one-on-one conversations that often shape our lives.

And if this trend continues -- and frankly, there is no end in sight -- I can't help but wonder what lies ahead.

This growing obsession with a new method of conversation hit home recently.

The wife and I visited a beautiful lake recently on a gorgeous early fall day.

At one point following a delicious fun-filled lunch, I took a stroll on a long dock overlooking a postcard lake.

Dozens of overstuffed tourists sat on an array of chairs, benches and loungers.

And without exception -- and I mean 100 percent -- all of those tourists were on their iPhones.

100 percent!

I doubt they could find a more picturesque screen on their hand-held device than the full scope of a gorgeous vista literally at their feet.

Please understand, I fully recognize the marvelous opportunities offered by a wide array of new technology.

That's not my point.

Far too many people are tethered to their iPhones at the expense of old-fashioned conversation.

I'm no fuddy-duddy yearning for yesteryear with family gathered around the radio listening to "Fibber McGee and Molly."

But when you gaze across a room and everyone is focused on their phones, it does give you pause.

I confess to being old school, but at the same time, I also see the benefits of this emerging technology. The problem is, I too can see the downside.

Someday perhaps, someone will look back at this column and laugh at the concerns over these newfangled gadgets. By then, of course, today's gadgets will be obsolete and long abandoned.

Many companies, I am told, have adopted a policy prohibiting iPhones from the workplace. Without such a ban, I can only assume little work actually gets accomplished.

On second thought, maybe I am a fuddy-duddy. Maybe there's nothing wrong with wanting an eyeball-to-eyeball conversation.

And maybe, just maybe, I am a dinosaur.

Michael Jensen is the editor of the Standard Democrat in Sikeston, Missouri.