Call me
Two attractive women, in their twenties, just came in out of the cold of the San Francisco Bay area to the relative warmth of the corner Java-bucks where I’m writing. It’s late. Here are two friends grabbing a hot China-cappa-mochiola-frapparinio and some conversation together.
No. I’m wrong. They get their hot granditos, and moved to a pair of soft arm chairs in the far corner for their chat–but NOT with each other. From the time they came through the front door they have been talking, non-stop, on their cell phones–to people who are not even here.
Whatever happen to talking to the one you’re with?
Doesn’t anyone have a conversation any more? When I am out with my good friend Susan, also a long-time Bay arean, I silence the ringer on my phone and put it in my “sketch bag” (sketch book, colored pens, at least one current reading project, and a magazine or three.) If I am expecting an important return call, I tell her--or any friend I am with, “I may need to take a quick call if Vice President Cheney calls me back. Is that Okay?”
(Did you know, by the way, that the correct pronunciation of his surname is “ChEE-nee” and not the oft-heard “ChAI-nee”? Now y’know.)
For now, my main attention is with my friend, Susan. We have an appointment. Even if its just a casual dinner at one of our “usual” places, it will always include a bit of dream sharing, or catching up if one of the other has been on say, a cruise to Alaska (Susan in July ‘007). No matter, it is an appointment and the phone is “off.” Any calls are an interruption, just as sure as if some one walked up to our table and began talking with so much as an “Excuse me” or, “Can I jump in here?”
When I’m in a business meeting, teaching a workshop or delivering the keynote address to several hundred people, my phone is off--off my body and off the gentle CTU-Jack-Bauer-ring-tone I programmed into it.
A couple years ago, during a two hour workshop with magazine editors at a convention in Colorado Springs, a cell phone began ringing, and ringing, right in the middle of my high-energy presentation. And ringing! Finally I stopped, “Is some one going to answer that?” And ringing. (Hmmm) “Maybe it’s mine.” I joked. It was.
At the luncheon that followed, with several hundred editors, managers, designers, journalists, etc., the MC, an old friend, quipped. “We’d like to encourage all seminar leaders to request that all cell phones be turned off during all conference sessions. Speakers should turn off their phones, too.” (Laughter) “McNair-r-r” (More laughter) Fine by me. Everyone was whispering, “Who’s McNair.” There really is no such thing as bad publicity.
Can we all agree to a bit of cell phone sanity and etiquette?
(Now at this point I intended to draft my own cell phone Magna Carter or cellular etiquette. But a quick Googling and I discovered two good articles that cover most of my pet peeves: Dan Briody’s Ten Commandments of Cell Phone Etiquette. (How perfect is that?) and Joanna Krotz’s Cell Phone Etiquette: 10 Dos and Don'ts. Have a look. Print them out. Memorize.
One other habit I am trying to develop is a “cell-free Sabbath” (no cell phone use on Sundays.) If I come home from church, brunch, my new daily walk and there’s a message on my cell (that I do not carry on Sundays) I may check it. If I am home and it rings I let it take a message. The same holds true with my land line.
We baby boomers lived most of our lives with NO cell phone: not bad reception, dropped calls, the challenge of texting-while-driving, just NO PHONE. Period. Back then, though we had something I don’t see as much of anymore...conversation. It’s a lost art and it’s time we brought it back.
Meet me on the corner--at Pete’s. The first mug of obamo-taxa-chino is in me. If you’re running a bit late, I’ll be the guy in the corner, with the sketchbook and the tea-tag-on-a-string, dangling from my cup.
McNair
P.S. Today is the birthday of two of my favorite fellows: the inspiring and still-vigorous, Peter O’Toole (link to his brilliant Oscar tribute and speech). He is best remembered for Lawrence of Arabia
and The Lion In Winter. If you have never seen his performance in the 1972 movie The Ruling Class--get it and hold on! He has also authored an amazingly written (by himself) auto-biography: Loitering With Intent: The Child and Loitering With Intent: The Apprentice. Both are a great read for their stories and remarkable wordsmithery.
Second birthday boy, gentleman, radio talk-meister and columnist, Dennis Prager. He is challenging, insightful, and always respectful of all points of view--a rare trait these days. Dennis discusses the values, worldview, and philosophy behind the issues and events of the day.
[ Above right: Peter O'Toole as T. E. Lwarence ~ his mug on a mug ]
Mel Brooks is at it again, on the heals (and toes) of his huge Broadway hit, The Producers comes Young Frankenstein - The Musical. Opening its pre-Broadway tryout in Seattle, Tuesday, 7 August '7. It opens in NYC later this Autumn (11.8.7.) (If you go see it, let me know--take me along!) Read more in the Seattle Times here.
