CELL PHONES, ONCE a luxury, are now not only affordable, but also considered by many as a necessity. Clothing designers are even adding pockets cut to that ubiquitous phone’s specifications.
Let’s face it, cell phones are everywhere. In theatres, restaurants, movie houses; in cars, buses, on the street. On vacation, they are on the beach; in boats, on the boardwalk. I even saw one abandoned on a beach towel, shrilly crying out for attention while its owners swam in the ocean. They proliferate faster than rabbits, are relatively inexpensive, and insure that those who have one are never out of contact, unreachable, or alone. Cell phones have changed society as we know it, and I’m not sure it’s for the better.
PURSUIT OF SELF-IMPORTANCE
It seems to me that more often than not cell phones have been exempted from the outcry against the decline of civility in our society. I’m not exactly sure why that is, but I suspect it has something to do with our wholesale endorsement of self-importance and the pursuit of wealth by any means necessary, including having a loud, obnoxious conversation and disturbing others in public spaces.
Yet the truth is that having money or pursuing it is no excuse for bad behavior, and most of the time cell phone abusers aren’t having critical conversations, they’re simply blabbing. The proliferation of cell phones is simultaneously a manifestation of our increasing inability to be alone and a weird attempt to create community, however virtual. Our creepy, post-modern millennium mantra seems to boil down to this: I talk, therefore I am. Most of the time, cell phone abusers aren’t having critical conversations. They’re simply blabbing. Which is not to say that cell phones don’t have their place. Who can argue with the wisdom of keeping one in the glove compartment in case of a driving emergency? Or in a pocket during that ninth month of pregnancy, the better to let your partner know your water broke and it’s time to get to the hospital? I’m sure there are quite a few other situations in which cell phones have an appropriate place. But is it really necessary to bring your cell to the movies, leave the ringer on, and then ruin everyone else’s experience when it starts ringing in the middle of a crucial scene? And what kind of message does it send to your dining partners when you flip out our phone and make a call in those scant moments between the appetizer and entrée? It’s hard enough walking down the crowded streets of New York or any other city without talking on the telephone — or dodging some someone who is. And is whatever you’re talking about really so important it can’t wait until you get where you’re going? TALKING LOUD, SAYING NOTHING Our creepy, post-modern millenium mantra seems to boil down to this: I talk, therefore I am. During several weeks spent eavesdropping on public cell phone users, not once did I overhear a conversation that couldn’t have waited until after the movie ended, ferry docked, or meal was eaten. Flipping out your cell and punching in a number may make you look important, or think you do, but the reality is, to paraphrase James Brown, most of the time people are talking loud and saying nothing that couldn’t wait until they found a pay phone or got back to work or home. In The Gap, I listen for 20 minutes to a woman shopper who’s dialed up a friend and describes to her in excruciating detail every outfit she contemplates trying on. On the ferry leaving Martha’s Vineyard after a glorious weekend, I listen to another woman describe what a great time she had as her two children whine for her attention. On the streets of New York, I overhear descriptions of bad dates, good dates, creepy co-workers, and Broadway plays, none of which can be defined as particularly important or urgent business. PEACE AND QUIET
Sitting at an outdoor café, I notice I’m the only solo diner who’s not talking on a cell phone. Instant companionship on demand for those unable to overcome the awkwardness of dining alone.
There’s something quite disturbing about living in a culture in which silence and being alone and out of touch are states not to be cherished but abhorred and avoided. Even in the moment we’re never fully there, thanks to out trusty cell phone. Whatever happened to that old 60’s adage, “Be here now”? You know, with yourself, in your head, in the moment. At least that’s somewhere, before cell phones, I could find some peace and quiet.................................................................................
................................................................................ Jill Nelson, MSNBC.
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