I am as guilty as anyone in that I feel naked and alone if, at any time, I don't have my cellphone right next to me. I have started somewhere in the car, realized I had left the phone at home, turned around and gone back after it. If I do force myself to continue without it, the entire time I am wondering who could be calling. And, when I get back home, I make a bee-line for that little black box, grab it and see that ... I had no calls. OK, that's good; I didn't miss anything!
And cellphones do make it easier to stay in touch with the kids, and we seem to worry less if they have a means to contact us immediately in case of any kind of trouble. Likewise, a flat tire or dead battery are much less frightening when we know we are just a few finger taps away from assistance, so cellphones can be useful appliances.
But I remember a time when the phone was attached to the wall or sat on a table by the window. In my childhood home, we had a "phone stand" where the phone resided, more or less permanently. It was right next to my dad's chair, so any conversation I had, he heard, at least my side of it.
Awkward! Especially when I was talking to a boy, or sharing girl-talk with a girlfriend. And "unlimited talk" didn't exist! After a few minutes, I was told in no uncertain terms to "get off the phone!" And I didn't argue, I got off the phone.
But today's kids have all the privacy they want with their portable phones, being able to take them anywhere and talk at any hour without their parent's knowledge. I know for a fact that if I had been able to do this and taken my phone into my room and crawled under the covers to talk, my dad would have been right there.
And privacy was further impeded by being on a "party line." Sometimes you could tell someone was "listening in," but not always. You learned to listen for breath sounds, or telltale background noises that would betray a listener. And, of course, if you picked up the phone and someone else was talking, it was very tempting to just listen for a couple of minutes to see if anything interesting was going on. Of course, I never did that! Well, maybe ... oh, never mind.
Maybe the best thing about the old "land line" was that it never went anywhere. It was always right there on the stand by my dad's chair. I never had to wonder where it was or spend hours looking for it. It always sat there patiently, just waiting for someone to need it. But my cellphone is a sneaky little creature and is constantly trying to avoid me. I can just hear its evil chuckle as it tucks itself down inside the cushions of the couch, or hides behind the mustard in the refrigerator. It lurks quietly in the dark in my bedroom closet, or underneath the clean clothes in the clothes basket. The devious little machine will stop at nothing to conceal itself from me, and I have even found it hunkered down in the microwave.
I don't know why it goes to such great lengths to get away from me. After all, I think I treat it pretty well. I have only dropped it in the toilet and ran over it with the car once. You would think it would be happy to be in my possession. After all, I didn't turn the microwave on. Had that happened, I could understand its reticence, but kicking it across the living room floor a time or two shouldn't have generated such animosity. I just don't get it. It even hides when I put it in my purse, concealing itself at the bottom, under all of the gum wrappers, loose change and Kleenex.
I understand why some people purchase cell phone holders that clip on their belt or pocket. I would try this, but I imagine my little troll of a phone would just walk off and take the holder with it to one of its myriad hiding places, some of which include the lint trap of the clothes dryer and the recycle bin. Last summer it even learned to open the door and hide out on the front porch swing! I'll admit, I'm getting a little aggravated with it. My daughter has the same trouble with hers and, just last week, it leaped out of the car when we went to visit the newest baby in the family and hid in the yard by the mailbox until we, much later, tracked it down.
And my phone has another little annoying trait. It spontaneously issues beeps, chirps and chuckles. And, when I grab it up to look, anticipating a new text or email message, there's nothing there! I believe that it does this on purpose, just to see how fast I can leap out of my chair. Sometimes, it will even do this in the middle of the night, while it sits innocently on the nightstand. I promise, if it had a face it would be smirking!
Cellphone bills are another matter. The old phone bills were pretty straightforward, basic charge plus long-distance charges for outgoing calls only. Simple. Cellphone bills, on the other hand, are like a foreign language. There are your basic charges, plus charges for incoming minutes, charges for outgoing minutes, charges for texts, charges for tax and more tax. Oh, and more tax! Tax on what you were wearing when you used your phone and tax for what you ate for supper! And if you have more than one phone line on your bill, forget it! You might as well hire a cellphone-eese interpreter.
Why do we put up with this? Convenience, you say? I suppose. Security? That too. Would I go back to the old fashioned, non-portable phone? Nah, someone might call while I'm out!
Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at tamela.weeks@ gmail.com. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 02/19/2014