I’m not even going to beat around the bush with this one, kids. I’ve needed to get this out for a long time so I’m just going to go ahead and put it all out there in the open.
I hate my cell phone.
God, it feels good to write that. It might also feel good to shout those words but I have neighbors and don’t want to tarnish the illusion of normalcy I have so tediously created for myself. Of course, now that I have written those words and subsequently published them here in the blogosphere, I suppose I need to explain myself. So pardon me while I stretch out on the imaginary psychiatrist’s couch in front of me and bear my soul about my love/hate (but mostly hate) relationship with cellular telephones.
I’m not sure when it began. I’m not sure how it began. But I think the turning point was definitely around the time I purchased my iPhone. To go on record officially, I did not want an iPhone. I had no inherent desire to own an iPhone. But standing there in the AT&T store I let myself fall under the persuasion of my husband and a fast-talking salesman. I let myself be seduced by a touch screen and instant compatibility to iTunes, email, and “apps.” I cannot tell you the memory capacity of my iPhone or any detailed, specific information most technologically educated people would rely on when making the decision to buy a product. Hell, I just recently learned how to look up a phone number while on the line with someone else. That’s about as advanced I can get.
So, let’s move this story along. I get the new phone and okay, it’s kind of cool. I mess around with downloading some apps, I connect it to my email account, I surf the web faster than I can on my overloaded laptop, and I think that maybe this phone is one of the greatest things I have ever owned. With the passing of time I soon come to the realization that this phone isn’t the greatest thing I have ever owned and has in fact ruined any chance I ever had of being able to disconnect. I realized that apps such as Drinking Games, Mike Tyson Main Event, and Calorie Calc really didn’t do much to better my life (by the way, two of those apps came from my husband’s phone. I’ll let you guess which ones), and in fact the app I used the most on my phone was the free version of solitaire I downloaded on the very first day. Also, as time goes by I realize that my hatred does not extend merely to the smart phones, but to all cell phones throughout the four corners of the earth. But back to the disconnect statement….what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it means. It means that I have now become an absolute FREAK about checking email on my phone. Sometimes I’ll do it several times in the course of ten minutes. It’s not even a conscious choice anymore, I just do it whenever I happen to be in the vicinity of my phone and not because I care if I have new email, not because I feel like writing an email, no, I check simply because of the fact that I CAN. With the swift touch of my pointer finger I am instantly connected to my inbox. It’s so convenient, so effortless, and really helps me stay efficient and on top of things. Yea, okay, except for the fact that I don’t want to be checking work email at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday night. Yet when I see that number “1” staring back at me from the bottom of my screen I am almost powerless to resist the urge to see, to just peek, at who is the sender of the note. This is infuriating behavior and yet I feel powerless to stop.
My next rant can be applied to all cell phones. I am an equal opportunity insulter of all phones, all shapes and sizes. And believe me, I feel like such an old person when I say this….but texting for the most part drives me nuts (as I typed that last sentence my little sister sent me a text....man I love her). Most people describe texting as quick and instant communication. I call it the longest most drawn out way to have a conversation with someone. Plus, people can choose to ignore text messages for hours, days even, without any kind of reply. At least when you are talking on the phone or in person it’s usually a quicker response time. Texting also forces you to split your concentration for an unknown amount of time. You could potentially be attempting to carry out a verbal conversation with someone while intermittently taking breaks to respond to a conversation you are having via text. Kind of an exhausting process, and kind of super annoying for the person who has to watch you text.
I think the thing that bothers me the most about cell phones is that, hypothetically, they make us accessible to everyone at all times. And I know this has benefits, such as if you are being chased by a crazy axe murderer all you have to do is pull out your nifty little cell phone and presto! Help is on the way! This is comforting and probably could have saved the lives of many doomed characters in those campy horror movies I love so much. But herein lays the ultimate question. How accessible do we really want to be? Why do we feel the need to be connected to so many channels and so many people at all times throughout the day? I will admit, I feel lost when I don’t have my cell phone tucked away in my purse or, more often than not, clutched in my hand and ready to be used in a moments notice. I resent that lost feeling I have when my phone isn’t with me and hate that I am so committed to this one device.
So what is one to do? Is there a happy medium that exists between staying technologically current and blissfully unconnected?
Maybe this is about more than cell phones. At the root of it all the emails, the texting, the apps, and all the other fantastic features of the modern cell phone are nothing more than distractions. I personally am coming around to the idea that when it comes to a cell phone, less is oftentimes more. And by less I mean less of my personal time wasted on simply playing with my phone. Therefore, I am on a mini cell phone strike until the day when my cell phone can clean the house, walk the dogs and fold my never-ending pile of laundry. But really, who am I kidding. They probably have an app for that.
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