Cell, No (repeat)

We are living in an age where the cell phone, especially for younger people, is an extension of their body. Fortunately, I was raised in an era when the telephone was almost human and a member of the community was the telephone operator. When I picked up my telephone as a child, there was a voice saying, “Number, please.” The telephone was incidental — important but not imperative (until the teenage years at least). Today cell phones are ubiquitous — in the grocery store, in the bank, in the ear while driving, in church, in the theater — and many times they are intrusive. I have a cell phone. It is a prepaid service, which I pay for once a year. I have the cell phone for emergencies and courtesies — when I need help with the car and when I am running late. My cell phone “lives” in my car. I do not know my cell phone number, but it is written on the back of the phone. When someone asks for my cell phone number, I advise them that that would be redundant information since I hardly ever turn the phone on. I refuse to be so important that I need to have cell phone access all day every day. One other thing about my phone — it is just a phone –I can’t take a picture, and I can’t text message (or at least I don’t know how). I know I have voice mail, but I don’t know how to access it. Lest you think I’m totally an electronic dumbo, you should know that my desktop computer stays on all day every day and is a source of great pleasure and learning for me. Then too, I have an iPod. I would think those two items would protect me from nerd-dom.

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About bobosbest

I am a 79-year-old retired English teacher whose writing goals are fulfilled by publishing these blogs. I have a wonderful married partner, Dimitris Tsitsiras, who is from Greece. Life is good and still an adventure.
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