The Reigning Evil

by Julia Buckley

I might be a rarity in America: I don't own a cell phone. My children have them (mostly so I can keep in touch with them), but I haven't yet felt the urgent desire for a portable phone. If I have a night class, I borrow my son's phone so that I can call home and let them know where I am.

So far, what I've seen of cell phones out in the world has not persuaded me that I need or want one. A few examples:

Today my son and I went to a movie (Date Night--a sort of weird choice for my date with my eleven-year-old, but still a fun movie for both of us). On our way there we saw a female pedestrian cross against the light up ahead of us. She was on a cell phone and didn't seem to be paying any attention to where her feet were leading her. As if to prove this, she changed her mind mid-stride and turned around, heading back (still against the light), right in front of our car. I slammed on my brakes and leaned on my horn, frightened and angry that she would put us all in jeopardy. She sent me only a vague smile, as though my reality were different from hers. On the sidewalk her friends all laughed; it was an amusing story to them, not a near miss.

A larger danger than pedestrians on cell phones is, of course, drivers on cell phones. Last year when my older son was hit by a car (when he and his friends crossed the street responsibly), the driver was talking on the phone and driving too fast in the rain. My son's friend had to chase her to make sure she didn't drive away, and when she pulled over she continued to sit in her car and text message people on her phone.

I don't understand the curious addiction people have to cell phones. Of course I see the value of communication and the convenience of being able to communicate no matter where you are--but why is it MANDATORY for so many people? To whom are they talking so endlessly? Do they speak that volubly to their family and friends when they are physically present?

Recently we visited the most technology-addicted members of our family. Our niece had to be lured away from the television to greet us, and she texted people while we sat around the table talking. Eventually she excused herself so that she could go upstairs to play on Facebook and download some music. We continued to talk with her parents and siblings; later we adjourned to their living room where, during a lull in conversation, EVERY member of their family took out phones and started looking at them. I stared in mute astonishment. Finally I suggested that they could call us on those phones so that we could talk to each other. They laughed at the joke, but their eyes remained downcast, drawn by the lure of whatever magical thing is located inside those slim little pieces of plastic.

They seemed to have very short attention spans for the conversations we did have. They kept interrupting each other and interrupting themselves and running out of the room to answer their endlessly ringing land line. The evening was so fragmented I felt as is I were inside a kaleidoscope.

I was relieved to get back to my quieter house. My little family has many flaws, but I am grateful for the fact that they make eye contact with me when I talk and allow me to finish sentences without growing bored and seeking some sort of technological stimulation. I suppose that in my worldview, this is a major priority.

I'm sure that cell phones help people out greatly; they aid communication, perhaps even enhance personal security. But I fear that too many people, drivers especially, are becoming licentious with these tools and making them toys--toys they are reluctant to put down even when it's the polite, or the safe, thing to do.

Am I a curmudgeon?

Cell phoneitus...

By Lonnie Cruse


Picture on left is the side of the Super Museum with a fake telephone booth. And yes, that's me posing as a super hero. Anything for the camera.

It's a wonder to me that everyone, including me, doesn't have missing, or at the very least, mangled ears from constantly holding a cell phone against the sides of our heads. I even know people who have the kind that actually hook ONTO the ear, like a hearing aide, so they walk around looking like they have a huge black roach attached to their ears. Ewww.

Practically ever single person shopping in the huge discount stores or grocery stores are chatting to someone. It's like we can't go for five minutes without conversation. Anywhere. I felt really sorry for an older lady I spotted in a restaurant a while back, eating her dinner in silence because her younger male companion chatted on the phone from the time they arrived, throughout the meal, and was still at it as we left. I'm assuming he was her son, but it struck me as a bit rude. Couldn't he chat with HER through the meal and call the person back when he was alone? Sigh.

Of course, I'm a child of the 50's and our home phone back then was firmly attached to the wall in the dining room which was right behind and fully open to the living room. So my parents could hear every single word. And that did get me into trouble, more than once. When hubby and I got our first house, in the 60's, our phone was in the kitchen, with possibly the longest cord in history, which allowed me to work in the kitchen and even reach part of the living room to sit down and chat. Of course, our sons always got *just out of reach* of the cord, so while I could threaten, I couldn't actually touch them while they wrestled each other or bounced on the couch. Luckily, it was vinyl. Where was I?

Growing up, I never dreamed of cordless phones, much less cell phones which gave users the ability to talk in the grocery store OR the car, while on a trip. I do love that. I confess, though, I once put the cordless phone down and couldn't find it. Pressed the handy little locater button, but no sound to lead me to it. Then I looked out the window. I'd left the receiver on top of the dog's house when I fed her. She didn't bother to answer the phone. Probably knew the call wasn't for her.

Last Tuesday was sort of the "be all, end all" cell phone spotting for me. We took our grandsons to the waterfall at Ferne Clyffe State Park (Southern Illinois, if you are ever in our area, check it out.) The boys climbed around, over, and under the rocks while Grandpa supervised from a safe distance and I sat on a nearby bench and enjoyed a good book and the lovely scenery. From time to time other visitors sauntered up to where we were, admiring the scenery. One group of teens included a young man chatting on his cell phone, informing the listener that he was at the waterfall. Which tells me there is now no place that is cell phone free except certain hospital areas, and people have been known to sneak them in there. And where was my cell phone while we admired the flora and fauna at Ferne Clyffe, you ask? In my pocket, of course! You didn't think I was dumb enough to take a hike in the woods without it, did you?

But I do have to wonder what kind of society we've evolved into, when you rarely see anyone without a cell phone tucked into the ear and/or between ear and shoulder while people go about their daily business. And whether or not the next generation will still have two ears and/or be able to stand fully upright, with ear not attached to shoulder permenantly. Should be interesting to see. And cell phones have given multitudinous writers ideas for stories. I'm sure there are plenty more out there.

'Scuse me, my cell phone is ringing. That would be the new one the company just sent me that takes pictures and has some sort of direction finder, for when I get lost. Have a good day. And don't forget to charge your cell phone.