The Care And Feeding of Phones

A friend of mine spoke today about the telephone, and wondered how long before the telephone as we know it is obsolete.

If it weren't for a couple of exceptional people, I would say it can't happen soon enough for me.

The telephone used to be a simple tool. It used to hang on the kitchen wall. Every family used to have only one and, because Mom used to be the main user of it, and she had to cook dinner while talking, the phone cord used to be about a mile long. Constantly whirling around the kitchen, Mom used to have that already curly cord in massive tangles.

I remember the Great Tangle Incident: Mom had just hung up the phone after speaking with her best friend for about 90 minutes. Dad came in the room and grabbed the phone off of the hook. He had no idea how much tension that tangled cord was in, or the amount of torque that had been saved up. Bear in mind: the long cord had been tangled for ages, and was now only maybe five inches in length. Unfortunately - he didn't have a good hold of it.

My eight-year old eyes widened in disbelief as that black telephone receiver slipped from his grasp and whipsawed around the room. I remember Dad trying to pounce on it, and missing it. I distinctly recall the explosion of swear words as he stumbled around, trying desperately to grab it.

The whole household came to a standstill as we watched poor Dad try and grab this live snake. All six kids, Mom and our grandmother all did our level best not to snicker.

He finally caught it, then in frustration he slammed the receiver down. I think he forgot who he wanted to call.

I can't remember much about the first cell phones. I know that they were huge, and that they could only be installed in cars. Only the really cool rich kids had one. Back then, it was a kind of status symbol.

Then came the truly mobile phones - the kind you had to carry in your backpack. You learned to bend your knees when picking up one of these babies. Hospitals had to get used to the idea of a new kind of injury: the Mobile Phone Hernia.

Today, nearly everyone has a cell phone, of one kind or another. Cities are giving serious consideration to putting in cell phone access points in their subway systems. That way all of us who prefer to sleep on our hour-long rides to our destinations get to hear inane babble from our fellow passengers.

"I'm almost at the next stop."

"I said I'm almost at the next stop."

"I SAID I'M ALMOST. YEAH, ALMOST. YEAH. CAN YOU HEAR ME? I'M ALMOST---OH WAIT. I'M THERE. ONLY FIFTEEN MORE STOPS TO GO. FIFTEEN! FIFTEEN!!"

*silence*

"SO WHATCHA EATING RIGHT NOW???"

It's only by the grace of God that I don't do a Tommy DeVito on the oblivious miscreant. (A decent writer doesn't make an obscure reference, so let me tell you: that's the Joe Pesci character in "Goodfellas")

The thing is: I've become a victim of incoming equally scintillating calls too.

"How are you?" (translation: "I don't really care. I'm just saying this because that's what you're supposed to say at the start of a conversation")

Usually, this is followed by "How's it going?" (translation: "still puttin' in time here, buddy")

"Whatcha doin' tomorrow night?" (possible translation: "I've got a problem and you're just the guy who can fix it for me". Or it could mean: "I've got a million dollars and need to give some of it to you but only if you can come over". It's a verbal mind-field and so you don't know if you should answer truthfully or lie.)

One friend is a self-professed expert. "On what?" you query. Glad you asked. On everything. Just ask him, he'll tell you. His calls go something like this:

"Hey you know what Mr. Joe Obscurity Author had to say on the topic of toothpicks? Well, he's certain that global warming would be curtailed if we used some of the technology involved in the manufacture of toothpicks, but only if you apply the Scoobydootilly principle, in 3/4 time"

"Huh"

"Yeah, that's right, and we could also cure cancer, but only if the moon is in the 1/4 phase"

"Right. I've got to---"

"Hey you know about Obama, right?"

"What about him?"

"The Mayans predicted he would rise up. I think he's the antichrist. Anyone who thinks would know this"

"Um"

"It's pretty blatant, the way he wants everyone to love him. Plus, he's black."

"WHAT?"

"No, I don't mean that in a racist sense. It's just that the Mayans talked about a dark man would rise"

And despite myself, I have to respond. "Maybe that's a metaphor"

"No it clearly isn't. If you check out the writings carefully and cross-reference..."

"Maybe you could cross-reference my ass, buddy"

"What?"

"Oh, I was talking to the waiter. Look, I've got a hot breakfast in front of me. Have to let you go."

"Oh Ok. Maybe you could call me when you're done?"

(What for?) "Ok sure" I lie. Then I hang up the phone and put it back in my pocket.

A minute later, I take it out and turned the damned thing off.

The Great Satan isn't the U.S. It's the telephone. They're not tools anymore. They're tethers, and they make you available to whoever wants to interrupt you, whenever they want.

My fondest memory of a phone call was back when I was first married. We were still honeymooning and it was the middle of the day and we were doing what newlyweds do. My best friend was calling. I have no idea why I picked up the phone in the middle of all of that but....

"Hi Doug. What's up?"