I used to be a hater. An absolute hater of cellular telephones. It took me nearly 10 years to be sucked into the world of carrying a mobile phone everywhere I went. If it weren’t for my girlfriend, I’d still be a land-line having “check out my badass rotary phone” kinda person.
I don’t particularly like devices that abuse my freedom. Alarm clocks, electronic ankle bracelets, computers, cell phones. Technology has become so second nature that we don’t even realize the utter control it has over our everyday actions. In fact we’re quite happy to be led around or chased down by instantaneous information and commumication. I love the Internet but sometimes I’ll geek out so hard I won’t know what day it is. But I’ll know things like free throw percentages, the foiled coup in Sri Lanka and the hoarder of 96 cats in suburban Chicago. Problem is I’ll forget all of it by the time Dancing With The Stars is on. Good thing I got my 5 favorite friends calling plan.
It’s an old story that everyone hates having to listen to one-sided conversations from people on their cell phones but it’s a way of life in the new millennium. Or having to answer calls from friends you just saw 10 minutes ago, or having such useless inane conversations that say nothing at all and would never take up your time if it weren’t for the sheer convenience of your BFF hitting you up on the celly. Telephones should be used for 1) making a date or meeting place with lovers and/or friends, 2) finding a friend to bail you out of jail, 3) calling 911 because your house is burning down. And of course, 4) calling the date you had last night to let them know you’re not a complete schlub. There really is no other reason to call people and if you call more than twice in a day it becomes incessant.
There is a phenomenal tragedy that ensues when we lose our phone. Or break it. Or drop it in the toilet, or leave it somewhere far, far away. That sickly feeling we get in our bellies, the morbid sense of loss of everything tangible and real. As if everyday life itself was dependent on a sleek little gadget as you realize that you don’t know anyone’s phone number by heart.
I remember when only drug dealers and stock brokers had cell phones. And I suppose in a way nothing has really changed except that small children and even the most destitute of people now have mobile phones. Might not have a car or a house but they sure got a phone. Not old enough to go to an R-rated movie or ride a roller coaster but they have a phone. Soon an everyday face-to-face conversation will be reserved for weddings, funerals and court appearances.
I have to wrap this up, I’m blowing up. My ringtone is either 50 Cent, Kanye or Disturbed, depending on who’s calling but you’d never know because it’s got too much treble so it sounds so washed out it might as well be white noise.
But when I call myself it’s always Britney.