I'm all cried out. What I once thought was a bottomless well of liquid tear supply is dry...empty. I must have reached peak emotion a while back and not realized it, and I'd been on a downward trajectory ever since until reaching this point at which I can no longer be moved by sentimentality.

I'm all cried out. What I once thought was a bottomless well of liquid tear supply is dry...empty. I must have reached peak emotion a while back and not realized it, and I'd been on a downward trajectory ever since until reaching this point at which I can no longer be moved by sentimentality.

Scrolling through my Twitter feed the other day, my epiphany manifested itself as I came across a guy who'd bought his dad a pickup. The dad's old, beat-up pickup had finally broken down for good and, without it, he was struggling to keep his job, etc.

Looking at the video's teaser image showing the African-American dad and his grown son embracing by the pickup, I took the bait and clicked “play.”

So the video begins. The son is leading his dad in kind of zig-zag pattern down the street while holding a blindfold over his eyes. You can hear the dad asking what this is all about, and the son is telling him to be patient. They meander toward the curb in what appears to be a low-income neighborhood, and parked there is the Ford F-150, an early 2000s model. The son removes the blindfold, there's some cheering from people gathered off-camera, and the dad freaks out. He shrieks excitedly a couple times as he asks if the pickup is for him. When his son tells him that, yes, it's his and that he has bought it for him, the dad melts. He leans on the pickup, puts his head in his hands, and weeps. The son comforts him and says a few words quietly to him, and eventually is able to get his dad to climb inside and start the vehicle as the video comes to a close.

And, to my own shock, there's not one welled-up tear in my eye teetering on the brink of running down my cheek.

Have I actually managed to become cynical about all of this? Hopelessly jaded by this extra plane of existence, this added life dimension that exists only on the internet and on social media sites and only through the lens of a cell phone camera?

Make that many cell phone camera lenses. The dad surprised by the gift of a pickup from his son? A tremendous little story. Poignant enough to warm even the most frigid heart. But, in addition to the phone camera that's capturing the moment to be shared online with the masses, as the son leads his blindfolded dad down the street, they're being followed, encircled even, by a bunch of other people with their phones trained on them, too. It's real, for sure...it's happening. The son did buy his dad a pickup and what a generous gesture, but it's all so...contrived.

There's an abundance of god-awful wrongfulness in our nation and world today, but there's no denying that on a bedrock level, our society is afflicted by this obsessed, incessant belief that an experience isn't really an experience unless it's captured on video and shared. It's apparently impossible to simply remember an event or reasonably interesting encounter or emotional moment as you embark on the rest of your life unless the experience is captured on video, and shared. I know, I know...it's how we keep up with friends and family separated by miles and miles of geography and all that. But we blew past the staying-in-touch-with-loved-ones angle a long time ago.

A child battling an awful disease meets his favorite professional athlete. An expectant couple reveals the gender of their baby. A parent returns from a military deployment and surprises his/her family. A child slides down a slide. A person with a bad cold lays on a couch surrounded by crumpled up Kleenex wads. Some wonderful moments, indeed. And some hopelessly mundane ones, too. But, no matter. All are recorded by cell phones, sometimes just one phone, but often, many phones.

Sharing videos is often just the beginning. A certain video blows up on Twitter. It goes viral. The person who originally shared it might not have an especially big following, but the reaction to this particular video has the potential to change that. So, amid all the reactions and retweets, it's time to capitalize. The person chimes in with something like, "Wow, I can't believe the response to this video." Then the person goes on to urge everyone to check out his other content on other platforms like Instagram and Snapchat, and maybe check out his podcast if you have a chance. And, of course, if you follow him on Twitter and these social media platforms, he'll follow you back.

Clearly, this is a generational thing, so complaining about it compares to screaming at a brick wall. If you’ve grown up both in front of small screens as well as behind them, it’s all you know. Therefore, it seems completely normal to you to not let any experience, no matter its magnitude, slip by without recording it, and sharing it. Simply living life and navigating its ups and downs isn’t enough anymore; it’s all a performance, and its countless scenes and acts must be captured and disseminated to the masses in the desperate quest for rave reviews.