Don't Call Me; I'll Call You

E-mail is far more convenient than the telephone, as far as I'm concerned. I would throw my phone away if I could get away with it.
Tom Hanks

I use my cell phone as much as I can—I talk to friends all the time. I'm like 2,000 hours a month. It's crazy.
Lisa Loeb

It's getting harder and harder to differentiate between schizophrenics and people talking on a cell phone. It still brings me up short to walk by somebody who appears to be talking to themselves.
Bob Newhart

We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company.
Lily Tomlin


“You don’t have a cell phone?” The questioner’s tone of disbelief always bewilders me.

“What do you do in case of an emergency?” The person will then ask.

“I use the nearest phone,” I answer.

Have emergencies changed since the advent of the cell phone?

Do they occur more frequently to people who have them?

“How can I reach you then?”

“I have a phone at home. And I have an answering machine. And I frequently check my email,” I reply.

The questioner will then usually shake his or her head and say, “I don’t know how you do it. I can’t live without my cell phone. It has made my life so much easier.”

“How has it made your life easier?” I invariably ask. And my curiosity is genuine. I’m for anything that makes life easier. For instance, I get on my knees everyday (this is hyperbole, of course) to thank God for the computer. It has made writing and revising infinitely easier.

“I can call anyone anytime I want,” the person answers.

“You can do that from any phone,” I’ll say.

“Yes. But I can also be reached anytime.”

“I don’t necessarily see that as a good thing,” I’ll say.

Speaking for myself, I don’t like talking on the phone. Not even with people I’m close to. Perhaps because of this, more than any other reason, I hate the thought of having a phone on me at all times. What’s more, I prefer being hard to reach. The freedom in that is precious.

I’d only own a cell phone if I had a position of great responsibility and people depended on my input to get things done right. But as it is, at this moment, that is far from the case—and, to be honest, I hope it stays that way.

Recently, in a Panamanian mall, I saw four teenage girls walking alongside each other, as a group. But I was confounded because each girl held a cell phone to her ear, talking to a girl someplace else, I imagine.

What’s the point of going out with one’s friends, then?

In restaurants, I’ve seen husbands and wives seated across from each other while talking to someone else on their cell phones.

I wonder, are cell phones also improving marriages?

In movie theaters—in what undoubtedly is the most annoying aspect of Latin American film audiences—people answer their ringing cell phones and conduct conversations as if they were in their living rooms.

Do I really want to be a part of this often rude craze?

Do I really want to contribute to the glee of phone executives as I help fill the coffers of their industry?

I don’t think so.

As I’ve already said, I’m not wild about telephones. Besides, when it comes to cell phones, I don’t ever see myself becoming that important.