Why is it that something we hardly knew existed 20 years ago is
so indispensable nowadays? Try removing this item from everyday
life and you’d witness an uprising that would make the Boston Tea
Party look like a game of tiddlywinks.
Why is it that something we hardly knew existed 20 years ago is so indispensable nowadays?
Try removing this item from everyday life and you’d witness an uprising that would make the Boston Tea Party look like a game of tiddlywinks.
The “something” I’m referring to is cell phones.
Standing in line at the supermarket recently, I noticed a toddler engrossed with her toy cell phone. Though it was gobbledy-gook to my adult ears, a fascinating conversation was undeniably in progress. No doubt discussing the merits of Huggies versus Pampers and promising to “do milk” next week, this future teen queen had cell phone proficiency nailed.
As inevitably happens, some branch of the government or highly esteemed university czar wasn’t busy enough solving world crises and requisitioned a bucket load of somebody else’s money. An urgent study of cell phones immediately commenced. Stunningly, we learned that families who owned cell phones aren’t as close as they were in the olden days when moms had to physically walk to Junior’s room to announce that dinner was ready. Or something.
I confess that some 18 years ago, the mobile communications bug bit me big time. Having recently begun working in real estate, I astutely recognized that the really “Big Deals” were consummated while driving your automobile.
Called “car phones” in those days, I signed up for – I am, unfortunately, not making this up – the $800-plus-installation “Commander” mobile phone, which was approximately the size of my front passenger seat.
If you are confused by the array of cell phone plans offered in today’s market, consider that in the late 1980s there were only two companies competing for business in our area.
They each offered one “Plan,” the main feature being when it was the end of the month we would send them all of our money.
So while driving around town awaiting the call from Neiman-Marcus’s CEO pleading to make a deal for a new mega-store at 101 and Cochrane, I racked up a lot of miles and many 90-cents-per-minute calls from the only two people who seemed to possess my mobile phone number – my adolescent daughters.
My loyal “Commander” would ring importantly, scaring the daylights out of me (because why was there a PHONE ringing in my AUTOMOBILE, for the love of God?) causing me to swerve wildly, all but careening off the road into a broccoli field.
Instructed to call only in case of a Dire Emergency, I would find Daughter No. 2 at the other end.
Emergency No. 1: “Mom, where are you right now?”
Me: “East Dunne and Hill. What’s wrong? Are you sick? Where’s your sister? Is the house on fire?”
“No, I just wondered where you were right now.”
Emergency No. 2: “When are you coming home? Can you bring me a candy bar?”
Emergency No. 3: “Why do I have to be babysat by my dumb sister? She keeps looking at me. STOP LOOKING AT MEEEEEEEE…..”
And so on.
My polar opposite husband had no desire to own a cell phone. I dragged him into this millennium last spring by giving him his own phone, which he immediately deposited into the glove compartment of his truck where it’s remained pretty much untouched.
“Can’t you at least turn it on when you’re in the truck?” I griped. “How am I supposed to reach you if you never turn it on? Nevermind, don’t answer that.”
“Au contraire,” he responded. “If I turn it on, the battery will run down.”
And they wonder why families who own cell phones aren’t as close as they used to be.
Gale Hammond is a 22-year Morgan Hill resident. Reach her at Ga*********@*ol.com.
