I, Cellular
So now I've got a cellular phone.
Back when it was warm and I was out walking every night the parents were a bit concerned about my safety. Beverly is a nice area, but people still get robbed in nice areas. Gotta go to where the money is. (Not that I have any, but it is a safe assumption that people in this area might have some. Just not me. Except maybe a couple bucks to get a coffee and a donut). No point in robbing people who don't have money. You take a lot of risk for little or no reward. Much smarter to travel to a more affluent area.
So the first solution was to buy hand held radios. The idea was sound. The radio claimed to have a five mile radius. I pretty much stay within that radius of my home when I walk. In theory I could give mom a radio and head out for an evening stroll. She could ask me to get her a candy bar if the mood hit (I could refuse knowing the old man would be upset if I gave chocolate to cardiac mom). If I had a problem I could radio mom for help. (Not that she could come get me what with the diabetic retinopothy, but she could call the police). A one time payment of twenty something dollars seemed much preferable to a cell phone.
The radios may actually get five miles on an open road or in the country. In Beverly they get about five blocks. There are too many walls and electronics in a residential neighborhood. Now the radios mostly sit on the charger. Sometimes I take one with me if I decide to read upstairs and leave the mother to her terrible sitcoms. (Everybody loves Raymond and Seinfeld are guaranteed to send me running out of the room screaming, "Make it stop! Make the one dimensional characters stop!")
So now that it is cold and I don't go out the old man has bought me a cell phone. He hands me the manual and expects me to read it. I share a plan with him so he can call me any time no charge. I can think of maybe two or three people outside of my family whose numbers I might actually put in the phone. (One of those is, of course the Shy, whose number is no longer on the house caller I.D. so that gives you a hint how often we do the phone call thing.)
It is sleek and shiny black and silver like some sort of modern star trek toy. (Try to flip it open like James T. Kirk and see how fast it becomes modern star trek garbage). It has a color screen and another little screen on the outside to display numbers and how many missed messages I have (1 from the old man already). The buttons are tiny. Which is technologically cool from a miniaturization stand point, but kind of suck from the I have really big hands stand point. Watch as ogre mashes buttons trying to make a long distance phone call.
I suppose what I'm getting at is how incredibly odd it is that a phone which is suppose to connect me with other actually reminds me how isolated I've become. The only reason I need this phone is as an emergency tool when I go out walking and it may be a few more weeks before it is warm enough to do that.
I suppose on the upside there are a ton of night and weekend minutes in this package so I can pretend to drunk dial people at three in the morning. (Or just pull out the bottle of Irish whiskey and make a real attempt at it.) Hmm who first the Shy or Crazy Red Head # 3.
More Laters
Back when it was warm and I was out walking every night the parents were a bit concerned about my safety. Beverly is a nice area, but people still get robbed in nice areas. Gotta go to where the money is. (Not that I have any, but it is a safe assumption that people in this area might have some. Just not me. Except maybe a couple bucks to get a coffee and a donut). No point in robbing people who don't have money. You take a lot of risk for little or no reward. Much smarter to travel to a more affluent area.
So the first solution was to buy hand held radios. The idea was sound. The radio claimed to have a five mile radius. I pretty much stay within that radius of my home when I walk. In theory I could give mom a radio and head out for an evening stroll. She could ask me to get her a candy bar if the mood hit (I could refuse knowing the old man would be upset if I gave chocolate to cardiac mom). If I had a problem I could radio mom for help. (Not that she could come get me what with the diabetic retinopothy, but she could call the police). A one time payment of twenty something dollars seemed much preferable to a cell phone.
The radios may actually get five miles on an open road or in the country. In Beverly they get about five blocks. There are too many walls and electronics in a residential neighborhood. Now the radios mostly sit on the charger. Sometimes I take one with me if I decide to read upstairs and leave the mother to her terrible sitcoms. (Everybody loves Raymond and Seinfeld are guaranteed to send me running out of the room screaming, "Make it stop! Make the one dimensional characters stop!")
So now that it is cold and I don't go out the old man has bought me a cell phone. He hands me the manual and expects me to read it. I share a plan with him so he can call me any time no charge. I can think of maybe two or three people outside of my family whose numbers I might actually put in the phone. (One of those is, of course the Shy, whose number is no longer on the house caller I.D. so that gives you a hint how often we do the phone call thing.)
It is sleek and shiny black and silver like some sort of modern star trek toy. (Try to flip it open like James T. Kirk and see how fast it becomes modern star trek garbage). It has a color screen and another little screen on the outside to display numbers and how many missed messages I have (1 from the old man already). The buttons are tiny. Which is technologically cool from a miniaturization stand point, but kind of suck from the I have really big hands stand point. Watch as ogre mashes buttons trying to make a long distance phone call.
I suppose what I'm getting at is how incredibly odd it is that a phone which is suppose to connect me with other actually reminds me how isolated I've become. The only reason I need this phone is as an emergency tool when I go out walking and it may be a few more weeks before it is warm enough to do that.
I suppose on the upside there are a ton of night and weekend minutes in this package so I can pretend to drunk dial people at three in the morning. (Or just pull out the bottle of Irish whiskey and make a real attempt at it.) Hmm who first the Shy or Crazy Red Head # 3.
More Laters
posted by Rich Rosenthal II at 1:56 AM
2 Comments:
What if the mugger takes your new phone?
Philena -- We can't stop here! This is Bat country! Ok the idea of flying disease ridden vermin has me scared to go outside.
Cyn -- well there is always the pepper spray or my ablity to cry like a baby.
Thepinkgoldfish -- Homer in a Mumu is one of the funniest episodes next to him being in the old folks home and wanting tube feeding, "why do I have to chew?"
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