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Published on 05/19/1999 All articles from this issue

A Side of Clyde

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By Clyde Noel

The cell-phone intrusion

After giving it a great deal of thought, I have come to the conclusion that people with cell phones are inconsiderate and rude.

A couple weeks ago, my wife and I were having breakfast at the Holiday Inn when the hostess sat a gentleman in the seat next to us. I heard the beeping tones of an electronic signal and wondered if my eggs were radioactive. It was the man next to us dialing his cell phone.

"Mert, can you hear me? I just wanted to thank you for"... and so it went, on and on until he hung up and immediately dialed another number. Neither call was an emergency and he didn't stop blabbing even after his French toast arrived.

Last week we went to the movies and during the show a phone rang. It was a mother calling her child asking if she was enjoying the movie.

Some days, almost everyone who passes in a car is talking on a cell phone. I've noticed women in their cars all alone smiling and chatting as if they were at a bridge party. I feel lonely driving the old-fashioned way talking to myself.

Last week, I waited for the traffic to dwindle at Second and Main streets so I could cross the street. A woman driving a big Ford Suburban pulled out of her parking space and made a sharp turn into Second Street. She was already yakking on the phone, but in her other hand was a Starbucks plastic coffee cup. She made it, but I question how she drove around the corner using her knees.

When I see a guy talking on the phone on his way to work, I figure he's calling his office or calling his girlfriend. Or he may be like my lawyer friend who calls his clients as he leaves his house with a cellular phone stuck in his ear. That extra half-hour commute time gives him an extra half-hour to bill his clients.

I'm a great believer in freedom of speech, but all this communication is a massive form of distraction. Do people need to feel plugged-in and hooked-up all the time?

Nobody opens a window and shouts up the street anymore: "Jerald, it's supper time. Come on home." Jerald is probably beeped by his mom, or if he's at a friend's house, he gets e-mailed from the family communication center. Our lives have shrunk to the size of a computer chip.

It's fascinating how technology has changed our lives. The more money you have the more communication devices you require.

When I was a kid, we only had one phone. It was a heavy black club on a short cord that could hobble you if you dropped it on your toe. The phone was used for emergencies only or permission had to granted. If you were on the phone longer than a minute, you were advised, "Don't be on the phone long, we're not made of money."

It might confound people to realize we don't have much to say to each other when we're together. But put a cell phone next to our ear, and it's blah, blah, blah, saying things we wouldn't say in person.

We're communicating all the time - even when we don't have anything to say. We're losing the silences we look forward to. Instead, we get someone with a cell phone blabbing away in our presence. At times, they're worse than the gas-driven leaf blowers.

Clyde Noel is a longtime contributor to the Town Crier.