Cell, No

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 a member of the community, 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 pre-pay service, which I pay 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 except to use it. 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. I know I have voice mail, but I don’t know how to access it. Lest you think I’m totally turned off to electronics, you should know that my computer stays on all day every day and is a source of great pleasure and learning for me.