They were a gorgeous couple, clearly enjoying their stroll on Manhattan's energizing, lushly landscaped and highly populated High Line.

Walking behind them on a recent sun-filled Saturday with my daughter Sydney, I would have been happy to take their picture, but they didn't ask.

They wanted to do it themselfie.

Out came the long, odd pole, onto which they hooked their smartphone. Smiles. Click!

As far as I could tell, they had successfully captured the moment for posterity, including the nondescript brush behind them.

Am I the only one who finds "selfie sticks" an unfortunate addition to modern life?

Despite the presence of helpful passersby, a couple used a selfie stick to capture a moment on the High Line in New York City.

Let me rephrase.

Am I the only one who hates those things?

I didn't even know what selfie sticks were until sightseeing in California last December. If museum guards didn't have enough to worry about (No flash! No food!), now they get paid minimum wage to protect Ming Dynasty vases from those swinging sticks.

Oops. Really sorry. I'll replace it.

OK, I'm exaggerating, but not by much. Obnoxious selfie sticks are popping up everywhere.

I've heard the counterpoints: Your arm simply can't reach long enough to get all of your friends in the picture. You're at the top of Mount Kilimanjaro with your bestie. You'd rather not talk to other people ever again.

In fact, one of the popular product lines is called Solo Stick, which supports my point perfectly.

Friends, we don't need any more reasons to be solo! Have you watched couples eating dinner "together" in restaurants? People standing in the grocery store line? People on planes? People crossing streets?

Your kids at the dinner table?

Everyone is studying a device — solo.

It seems that everything in the 21st century is more interesting than the person in front of you.

Except that it's not true.

A good way to prove it? Look up, take a chance, ask a question.

Here's a good one: "Will you please take our picture?"

Rarely will the answer be no. Sometimes, maybe most of the time, the stranger will smile, say sure, snap the picture, hand back your smartphone and disappear like smoke.

But sometimes you'll make a connection, learn about another cool spot not too far away, such as a good restaurant, or find out that he or she has a friend who lives in your city, your state, your country.

I was happy to see lots of collaborative photography occurring on that hot, wonderful day on the High Line. Lots of big groups of kids and parents asked strangers to take their picture. Lots of young lovers asked, too.

People are happy to help, if you ask them. But they can't help if you insist on doing it yourselfie.

I've been pleasantly surprised to hear about selfie sticks being banned during the recent months.

In May, Orlando's Walt Disney World made news by posting "No Selfie Sticks" signs, prohibiting them on rides.

Also in Florida, a popular lighthouse banned the rods after a visitor tried to use one to shoot the historic lens at the top of the tower. Attempting to reach way up, the tourist lost control of the handle and went off-kilter, nearly damaging the lens and putting an end to anybody else attempting the same feat.

The Smithsonian Museums and Gardens have nixed them, as have music festivals including Coachella and Lollapalooza, which have dismissed them as view-blockers.

The best views, in my mind, are the folks around you, who are also having a great time doing exactly what you're doing.

As Sydney and I descended the stairs back to New York street level, she laughed and asked me if I had overheard what a young woman heading upstairs just said.

Apparently, she was complaining to her best girlfriends.

"I bought a selfie stick," she confessed, "and I don't why."

gail.rosenblum@startribune.com 612-673-7350 • Twitter: @grosenblum