It is with a heavy heart that I submit this week’s column. I am nothing short of ashamed of myself for finally caving in to the vice I am about to divulge. Though I did put up impressive resistance, eventually the temptation was overwhelming and I was snared by another, potentially expensive habit. I got a cell phone.
It was Friday night while I stood for 20 minutes in the pouring rain waiting for my friend who never showed when I realized that this had to be done. But there have been other episodes as well – like the time my office phones crapped out and I had to make business calls from a payphone in 15-degree wind chill, or the night when I worked the bar and both the phone and draught system went down while we faced 70-plus thirsty patrons. The numerous social rendezvous that ended up as coordination nightmares come to mind, not to mention the numerous times that I could have avoided the fury of a woman’s scorn had I only made a phone call.
But this Dick Tracy-like ability of constant communication is a double-edged sword. Because if you can get in touch with everyone that you want, then guess what – they can get in touch WITH YOU!!! The bosses you called in sick to can get you. The girlfriend you blew off for the Syracuse basketball game can get you. You could be out boozing with the boys on a Saturday and Mom could call to see if you’re going to church tomorrow (Mom, please don’t do that). Though you might say that you’ll never give out your number, you know that eventually they’ll get it somehow from either a one-time indiscretion or from their caller ID (probably the best telephone innovation since the invention of the telephone itself).
So I have to face it. I am now tethered to a short, electronic leash, but I guess that’s what I need if I want to go out to play in this day and age.
I’m just a bit worried about how I’m going to look. I can’t help but roll my eyes when I see someone walking down the street gabbing away on the cell phone, especially when it’s the “Then I says, then she says, then I says” conversation. I can see the “Hey, I’m running late” or “Do you want me to pick something up” conversation, but to have the ability to gossip anytime, anyplace seems a bit frivolous to me. And you people with the hands-free phones walking down the street in full-blown conversation with what appears to be just yourself, I don’t care what you’re talking about, just STOP IT – you’re freaking me out!
Perhaps what bothers me most about cell phones is the fact that despite all the paranoid, anti-Utopian material you read about people putting a computer chip in your head, here I am willingly putting one in my pocket. The potential implications of this action are simply mind-boggling and would require more that my allotted column space to explore. But maybe Orwell was only a few years off with the Big Brother prediction. And while he thought it would take a war for people to submit, it only took some guy in a Sprint commercial to tell me I could have 1,000 minutes for $34.99.
Well, that and my friend leaving me on a street corner in the pouring rain for 20 minutes.
If you know how I can effectively waste $50 in the metro area, please write to:
“Hal Wastes His Wages”
c/o The Hudson Current
1400 Washington Street
Hoboken, New Jersey 07030
Or via e-mail:
Current@hudsonreporter.com