"Saved by the Cell"
September 18, 2005
Cell phones used to irk me. If I let myself think too long and hard about
it, they still do.
Once-quiet train cars fill up with PEOPLE TALKING LOUDLY (why is everybody always LOUDER on a cell phone?) ... about office memos, dry-cleaning bills, hangovers. Phones start ringing in the cafe where you're trying to study quietly, in theaters, doctors' waiting rooms, even on serene hiking trails.
That said, I have to say, cell phones are the best invention since indoor
plumbing. Let me explain.
The other Friday my husband and I drove down to Southport for a morning
business meeting. We had another meeting a few hours later in Wilmington.
After the first session, we piled in the car to drive a few clients to a
seaside restaurant for lunch. The engine wouldn't turn over.
Luckily there was a decent cafe nearby, and we could walk to lunch. From the lunch table, while eating his turkey wrap, my husband was able to call AAA for a tow, and then line up a car rental. The car rental office had to call
him back. While waiting for that call, and one from the towing company, he
could relax in the air-conditioned restaurant and continue talking business.
Imagine the same scenario before the cell phone. He would have spent hours lurking by the nearest phone booth, waiting for all parties to check in. No turkey wrap. No business. Extreme humidity.
The car rental people went to the wrong place and couldn't find us. So they
called -- cell to cell. We might have spent hours trying to make that
connection. Then the directions to the mechanic's shop were unclear, so we
called from the rental car for clarification.
We even managed to get to our next meeting on time. Without the cell phone? No way.
The other night our daughter's car broke down on a desolate road in Durham. She called AAA immediately and then her father, who was able to drive over and wait for the tow with her. What would she have done without her phone?
According to a New York Times article, more and more people are carrying
on "pretend" conversations over their cell phones if they feel threatened in
the street. Others fake-talk to avoid someone they don't want to chat with.
Tip: keep the phone on "vibrate" -- one woman's cover got famously blown
when the phone she was supposedly "chatting" on rang in her hand.
For those of us with aging autos and decrepit pets (don't run any expensive
tests, I always tell mechanics and vets, until you reach me), the cell phone
is a godsend. So what's the problem, again? Is pollution of the social
environment such a bad thing after all?
It is. However, I'd almost be prepared to put up with it except for one
major beef -- I can only eavesdrop on one side of the conversation!
Sitting on my screened porch one evening enjoying the cicada cacophony,
I became aware of a young man walking by on the road. He was chattering away on his phone, LOUDLY, of course.
"You just don't get it," he said. "I can't keep going this way."
Silent pause.
"You can't say that to me. It's not fair."
Silent pause.
Say what to him? What's not fair? I want to know. If he's going to yell on
my street at night, I deserve to hear both sides of the conversation. That
way, as an intrepid eavesdropper, I can decide for myself if I think it's
"fair" or "not fair."
So I propose the following ordinance: Cell phone users in public must use
speaker phone. What do you think, Chapel Hill?
