Give me a ring

Cell phones have become so much a part of our lives that it’s hard to recall what it was like when land lines were our basic means of telephone communication.

If you ever watched the original “Star Trek” and wished you had a tricorder, we’re there. And it all happened in such a short time.

I’m just old enough to remember party lines. My best friend lived out in the country, and her family was sill on a party line. Our very important junior high school conversations were frequently interrupted by cranky old ladies who needed to make very important calls of their own.

In a world dominated by texting, it seems hard for young people to imagine using a cell phone for actual conversations. I seldom see them talking on their phones, just staring at them, thumbs flying.

In fact, we are so far removed in time from the days of land lines that I witnessed a college student who didn’t know how to hold a telephone receiver.

She was in a play my husband was directing, and one day during rehearsal I noticed she was holding the receiver of the wall phone on stage straight out in front of her under her chin.

And there was no caller I.D. in the old days. The idea that when your phone rang you had no clue who was calling must seem barbaric to twenty-somethings. When it rang, you answered it. It would have been weird not to.

But oh! Wasn’t hanging up on someone so much more satisfying in the days of rotary phones? BAM!

Now, all you can do is poke your smart phone screen with a quiet finger and frown.

Cell phones, though, are wonderfully convenient.

Except when they’re not.

Caller I.D. makes it was too easy for people to just ignore you. It doesn’t matter how important your message is; you can’t force someone to answer their phone or return your text if they don’t feel like it.

Silenced phones can be a nuisance, too.

I remember one particularly annoying day. We decided last minute to run up to Ohio to nerd out at the Renaissance Faire and eat turkey legs.

Our middle son had stayed overnight at a friend’s house so we called him. No answer. We called the friend. No answer. All their phones were off or silenced or out of battery or whatever.

So we had to drive over to the friend’s house to tell him. Grrr.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Our son tried to reach another friend to see if he wanted to go with us, and that kid’s phone was off, too.

So we had to drive over there to tell him.

For many reasons most people can’t fathom, I still use a flip phone. It fits in my pocket nicely. It doesn’t do much besides allow me to call and text people, so I’m not tempted to check out and stare at it for long periods of time. It doesn’t own me.

Sometimes it appears to me as if smart phones rule their users much like a jealous boyfriend. Think about it. They monopolize your attention. They take up too much time. They isolate you from those you love. Bad boyfriend.

I recently heard an NPR story about a woman who recognized her obsession with her smart phone and made the decision to revert back to a flip phone. It made me smile.

Make no mistake, I appreciate having a cell phone in my pocket when I’m out and about. Still, there are times when I forget to carry it--usually when I’m working around the house.

So consider yourself warned: if you text me and I don’t answer, give me a ring.

I’m old school enough to answer it.