Hold the Phone

This could be "Confessions of a Phone Conservative."

The cell phone age is here to stay. At least until the technology is developed where one can just think a thought and "send" it directly to the other's brain. (GASP! If you think life is loud and busy now with texting and tweeting and booking Face time, can you imagine how crowded it will get in your brain then?)

Even though I never had a cell phone until the ripe old age of 18, and even then, it was mainly to impress a guy, I understand their place and even necessity in today's society. We live in a fast-paced, highly connected world; if you were without a cell phone, you may not get the emergency message, the job offer, or the word that there's Sox tickets available until it's too late.

My siblings, who are also two of my closest friends, are currently living in Florida and Missouri. One of my dearest friends lives in Seattle, and even my parents are about an hour away in southern NH. Having a cell phone makes them feel VASTLY closer to home, and it really aids with the distance.

What I do not understand, however, is the usage of cell phones just to talk. Specifically, the urge to talk when you're in a public place. I don't mean the conversational catch-up with a friend, or excited chat with a buddy as you troop to work or run into the store. I am referring to being on the phone purely for the sake of being in that act. Let me give an example (of course!) from my commute.
On the bus the other day, a person (age, sex, nationality--you pick! It doesn't matter!) sitting behind me was talking on their phone. As I (and the rest of the bus) had the privilege of hearing their conversation loud and clear, here is a snippet of the conversation (obviously, as told from their end of the line.)

:"Yeah. (pause) What are you doing Thursday night? (pause) Oh really. I went there once. Yeah. (pause) How about Friday? (pause) Wait, what? (pause) Hmmm. Ok. (long pause) Oh, I don't know. Whatever. I was suppose to go to this one place, but it's not going to happen. (pause) What? What? No, I missed that last part. (pause) Oh. Yeah. What did he say? Hmmm. (pause) Whatever. (pause) Yeah. Wait, what? (pause) Oh, that's what I thought you said. (pause) Wait, you didn't say that? Um...Oh. You did. Ok. Hmmm. (pause)"

And on and on and on. I didn't write what transpired down verbatim, but I can pretty much guarantee that the conversation was duller than that. The clincher however, was when the individual signed off the call by saying, "Ok. I'll call you tonight." WHAT? Why?!? Granted, I don't know the nature of the relationship of the people talking, but given what I could understand, was this so vital it couldn't wait until you were not in a public place? And given the level of enthusiasm and depth of conversation, this is something you want to repeat again, later?

There is another type of public caller, and they are far from dull. This is the individual completely lacking any ounce of self-awareness, who's one volume level is extra-loud (they go up to 11) and they don't care if you hear about their contracting a personal communicable disease in a not-often discussed location of their person from a questionable source in a sketchy part of town. All of their personal business is poured forth, not just to the happy recipient on the other end of their phone call, but to every stranger who comes within their personal volume range. (scientifically speaking, this range is generally limited, but also amplified by barriers: for example, consider a train car, a line at the store, or an entire bus. The barriers contain the sounds, but also reverberate it back to your eardrum making it even louder!)

My personal favorites are when the callers are mad--I mean really mad--at someone other than who they are talking to. They tell said third party all the ways they are mad, what they're going to do, and how much they don't care/aren't afraid of the person they are mad at.
It's quality, really, to share with your fellow riders that you're a "expletive ass expletive, and I don't expletive care what the expletive they do. That's how I expletive am. Whatever. Expletive expletive got to expletive do what they gotta do. Hold on, I'll call you back. I'm at my stop."

Where they proceed home to their mom's basement (ZING! Ok, so I throw in ONE assumptive stereotype...)

The Write Stuff?

I just finished reading an op-ed in the New York Times by the same title. Interestingly, it was about handwriting, and surprisingly, it contained actual directions for lowercase letters. Much like the plastic strips of letters and arrows that we glued across the tops of our desks in Kindergarten and first grade. (a pause to remember how awesome school was then! Or was it that I was just a nerd from the start?)

The article began with a very striking point: handwriting in America is suffering. I concur, but not-so-much solely for the writer's given reason (which is, because it is interesting: from about second/third grade forward students are taught to write in cursive, and the cursive being taught is very loop-heavy. We tend to read words by the tops of the letter, rather than the bottoms--try it, it's true!--and all the loops make it more difficult to read. Ok. I believe you, kinda sorta.)

The theory that developed for me was that handwriting is suffering due to it's gradual venture towards becoming obsolete. With computers, the only times we need to use handwriting is to sign a greeting card or fill out a check; and who uses checks anymore with online banking? I filled one out for my co-pay at my doctor's office last week because they don't take plastic, and it was weird.

That said, I tripped back again to my elementary days of spelling and vocabulary words used for homework with ten sentences (fifteen for extra credit...of course I did!) all written by hand. I can recall those long page-and-a-half essays due, all writ by hand. I used to make my own books with construction and contact paper, complete with text and illustrations: these authentic originals are in my personal 8-year old script. These days, with computers in the classrooms and nearly every home, how much does that happen anymore? (I don't really know the answer. I don't have children and am not a part of any school system....yet.)

It's a bit of a bummer to hear that penmanship is growing increasingly more poor. I'm a lifelong leftie, and I'd like to think I have pretty nice handwriting, given that strike against me ( I CAN write in pen and NOT smudge!) I'm somewhat motivated to have a Renaissance with my journal. (but what will become of my blog, lol?)