Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Cell Phone, Shmell Phone

I need a new cell phone.
The one I have is at the end of it's service life.
The hinge is cracked, the face is all scratched up, the battery barely holds a charge and yesterday, I took thirty two pictures of the inside of my pants pocket.
Wait. Make that I'm not sure if I need a new cellphone.
Last year, the kids had to work on a project involving technology and how it has affected society.
A couple of the students picked cell phones as their topic. Turned out it was not a wise choice for all of them had no idea what life was like BCE(before cellphone era).
I'm not sure any of them would know what to do if faced with a rotary phone, much less one connected to a wall with a cable.
You mean it can't move? I can't take it with me? Mom!
Yes sports fans, back in the day around the time Edison was inventing the light bulb, we had this thing called a telephone. When someone called you, a bell actually rang and you had to walk over (OMG!) to where it sat to answer it.
Voice mail meant that someone took a pencil and paper and wrote(!) down a message and taped it up somewhere you could see it.
Then came the ADE(answering device era) and it all went to hell.
Gee Mr. Flat Tire, you sound so old!
Old enough to remember when if you weren't home, no one got in touch with you.
Back then, there was a certain anxious expectation when the phone rang. You had to answer it to find out who was calling and most of the time, the person on the other end was actually interested in knowing what was going on in your life.
Yesterdays phone call: Hey Bill, how have you been?
Fine Stan, been a long time. And you?
Todays phone call: Hey Bill, where the hell are you?
Why don't you open your freakin door and find out you moron!
I especially like the kids that text.
Best line: Hey, did you get that text I just sent you?
Frankly, to use a term from back when telephones were tools, not jewels, this whole cell phone thing just blows my mind.
There are times when I don't want to be connected and I don't want to be found.
I enjoy imagining my home phone ringing and ringing with no one to answer.
A devilish smile appears on my face as I picture the caller furiously pressing a button on his cell phone, raising his arms in frustration asking: where the hell is he?
I can dream can't I?
I need a new cell phone.


Organic Meatbag said...

So, these 32 picture pockets, will these be posted? They might end up on some pocket fetish website...caution, my friend!

limom said...

Sir, the fact that you mention a "pocket fetish" website makes your inquiring about viewing these photos highly suspect. The infamous photos, now known as The Thirty Two, reside under lock and key in The Flat Tire Digital Vault(FTDV). Unless you wish to invoke the Freedome of Information Act, there they will remain until a time deemed responsible to humanity.