The guy is either contemplating his navel (isn’t that the expression people used decades ago, for doing something pointless?) or he’s texting while driving. His head bobs to check the color of the traffic light, and sometimes he relies on a honk from the car behind him to decide when to proceed.

That’s become a common occurrence. Some state organizations have even created a public service ad that urges people to sign a pledge in which they promise to W8-2text.

Well, one reader only recently told me explanations are in order. “Not everybody understands what texting is,” she said. Ooh, that made me feel guilty; it shows I’ve used the term texting and merely assumed readers would understand.

Texting is a relatively recent innovation, and people my age aren’t as likely to comprehend the ramifications of this neo-nascent electronic phenomenon. I still can’t generate a text message on my cell phone, although I can reply to my wife’s messages, like a pro.

Cell phones have the capability of sending messages to others by means of typing (usually abbreviated) words and sending them off. So instead of hearing a voice, the receiver of the text reads a telescopic message on the screen of the phone. Usually it’s imbued with earth-shaking profundity, like How R U?

Kids in school have mastered the technique. I’ve heard, anecdotally, that some students are such experts at sending text messages that they’re able to keep their cell phone in their pocket, insert hand, and send a message to a friend, all the while looking the teacher straight in the eye and saying, “No, I didn’t bring my cell phone to school today, teacher. Honest!”

Texting, especially that done surreptitiously, can have all kinds of implications for transferring information, such as test answers to a classmate in the same room. But, of course, school officials are equally vigilant about monitoring such activity and trying to prevent it.

But what about our easy rider, above, who was texting on Mills Avenue? As he stopped at a traffic light on Seventh, he let out a little giggle, went back, apparently to respond to his friend, and resumed the chat at the next light. At the time, I was a passenger with my son and got to observe the activity, if not the content.

My point is that there must have been instant communication; no sooner did the texter hit the “send” key than he got an answer that made him chuckle. And for every text message, even if the boy were sitting alongside the person he’s texting, a beam needs to bounce off a satellite. But that’s the extent of my textualizing acumen.

Last week, I noticed a family of four having breakfast at Charlie’s Restaurant. The father and the couple’s two children whipped out their cell phones to send off urgent messages before the menus had even arrived. The mom, with that I-don’t-know-what-they-see-in-this look, seemed uninterested.

To people like me, seeing three people concentrating, but not on each other, I simply assume they’re texting one another. But if they’re having a family chat, why not just talk? Has this family — I’m guessing they were from out of town — subjugated the art of simple conversation? Is little Brianna, back home so missed by Junior, visiting in New Mexico, that punching a few keys takes supremacy over face-to-face conversation with real family?

Cell phones have done wonders in speeding things up. If I get a text at work, I read it, unobtrusively, without having to excuse myself or interrupt a meeting. Clearly, one advantage of texting is speed. The use of the text message is great for communicating “I’ll be a few minutes late,” “Meet me at the Plaza,” “Pick up the kids at 4,” and for other brief messages.

But they ought not be generated and sent from behind the wheel. Unlike mere chatting on the phone, texting involves taking one’s eyes off the road long enough to read and compose the message.

It’d be great if the accomplished texters among us were to read and heed the research that equates the hazards of texting with the consumption of several beers. Must the lawmakers enact Draconian penalties to require people to be attentive while driving?

Mr n ths l8tr.

• • •

There appear to be legions of locals who approve of reopening the old skating pond in Montezuma. It’s a plan devised by councilman Joey Herrera, and he has many followers and supporters.

Let’s make this pipedream a reality!

• • •

It wasn’t until I read the obituary for my former schoolmate Alfredo “Chemo” Gallegos that I realized the extent of his involvement in the community. The notice reads like a Who’s Who.

Most impressive to me was his organizing of a group called Los Cien de Highlands. Essentially, Chemo, the former director of Upward Bound, asked 100 Highlands staffers (and anyone else interested) to chip in $100 for scholarships. The $10,000 collected each year funded many scholarships and helped a lot of students.

People will remember the wonderful deed Chemo organized. We appreciate him and we’ll miss him.