Relationships Can Be Ruined by Cell Phones
I usually write about relationships and differences between men and women.
I write a lot about what men and women say to each other.
But, this piece is not about what they say to each other; it's about where they say it - on their cell phones.
Personal conversations and business conversations are intended for people on each end of the phone - not for a room full of people or those walking along the street, relaxing on a park bench, or waiting in a doctor's office.
Nor should these conversations be inflicted on people relieving themselves in a public bathroom, enjoying a cup of tea in a restaurant, or deciding which bottle of juice or which shirt to buy inside a store, or locked in an elevator with no escape.
When did we get so promiscuous with our personal and business information that we spew it about? If there is no problem about privacy for the speaker, how about privacy for the unwitting listeners? How can telephone talkers not feel the publicness of their conversations? Perhaps they invent a bubble around themselves; they are so engrossed in their conversation they aren't aware of others.
Maybe they believe themselves to be invisible to others.
On New Year's Day at the beginning of this new century, I was walking through Central Park in New York City.
I saw a man roller skating while talking on the phone.
A few minutes later, I saw a woman spinning her wheel chair with a phone to her ear; later, a man was walking his dog and talking on the phone.
I was struck by how extraordinary were the situations in which this new invention - the cell phone - was being used.
That gave me a brain storm: to mark the turn of a new century, someone should publish a photography book showing how cell phones were invading our world and shaping a new life style.
Little did I realize how quickly our life style was changing and this book would soon be outdated.
Today, cell phone usage in public places is so common that what had been extraordinary is now taken for granted.
Last week, on the river, I saw a man holding the handle of his skimobile with his right hand while his left hand was at his ear.
He whipped by so quickly, I couldn't be sure, but what else could have been in that hand? Cell phones do make life easier; all calls can be received wherever you are, and no matter how busy you are, you can keep in touch with clients, family, and friends.
How can one complain about technology that does that? The benefit of this technology should be to free up time, assured that no call will go unreceived, and all calls can be returned at the most convenient time.
But, rather than turn off the phones when occupied, people keep them on at all times.
They are never free.
In effect, cell phones now burden, not free people.
You can't stop progress.
Cell phones are with us; they are an integral part of our lives.
My complaint is not about their existence; they can be helpful.
My complaint isn't even about the danger of talking while driving.
My complaint is that in addition to helping people keep in touch, cell phones interfere with personal relationships, pushing people away.
It's wonderful to be able to call your honey from wherever you are (although lovers certainly have found ways to do that long before cell phones).
But how often have you seen fiends walking down the street - with one talking on the phone? Or, families at a restaurant or social event, with everyone chatting but the father (or mother) separated by the cell? What is intended as a together activity gets interrupted when one of the people "goes away" via the cell phone.
This technology is now used to undermine relationships.
There was a time when this issue would have been related to gender; women generally are more attuned to relationships, so they might have been more sensitive to someone pulling away from them.
But women have become as much a victim of the cell phone rudeness and isolation as men.
It's as if there is a status for not just having a cell phone but having it ring while out with others.
Does that mean you're important? You are doing big business? Your fan club is following you? A far cry from the novelty of seeing someone on skates or in a wheel chair talking on a phone, there was a movie that again suggests the extraordinary may become ordinary.
In Jet Lag," a woman is in the airport security line talking on her phone.
In mid-sentence, she puts the phone on the conveyor belt, walks through the screening, picks up the phone on the other side and resumes her conversation - without missing a beat.
The really best part though, is when she's on the toilet talking.
She goes to flush, drops the phone, and watches in horror as it swirls down the drain.
I'm glad she was using her best friend to help with her crisis of the moment, but I applaud the flushing, feeling the relief of women in the other stalls; they could now sit in peace.
Maybe I'm wrong, though.
Maybe cell phones can bring people together since she then borrowed one from a stronger at the airport who ended up as her husband.
I write a lot about what men and women say to each other.
But, this piece is not about what they say to each other; it's about where they say it - on their cell phones.
Personal conversations and business conversations are intended for people on each end of the phone - not for a room full of people or those walking along the street, relaxing on a park bench, or waiting in a doctor's office.
Nor should these conversations be inflicted on people relieving themselves in a public bathroom, enjoying a cup of tea in a restaurant, or deciding which bottle of juice or which shirt to buy inside a store, or locked in an elevator with no escape.
When did we get so promiscuous with our personal and business information that we spew it about? If there is no problem about privacy for the speaker, how about privacy for the unwitting listeners? How can telephone talkers not feel the publicness of their conversations? Perhaps they invent a bubble around themselves; they are so engrossed in their conversation they aren't aware of others.
Maybe they believe themselves to be invisible to others.
On New Year's Day at the beginning of this new century, I was walking through Central Park in New York City.
I saw a man roller skating while talking on the phone.
A few minutes later, I saw a woman spinning her wheel chair with a phone to her ear; later, a man was walking his dog and talking on the phone.
I was struck by how extraordinary were the situations in which this new invention - the cell phone - was being used.
That gave me a brain storm: to mark the turn of a new century, someone should publish a photography book showing how cell phones were invading our world and shaping a new life style.
Little did I realize how quickly our life style was changing and this book would soon be outdated.
Today, cell phone usage in public places is so common that what had been extraordinary is now taken for granted.
Last week, on the river, I saw a man holding the handle of his skimobile with his right hand while his left hand was at his ear.
He whipped by so quickly, I couldn't be sure, but what else could have been in that hand? Cell phones do make life easier; all calls can be received wherever you are, and no matter how busy you are, you can keep in touch with clients, family, and friends.
How can one complain about technology that does that? The benefit of this technology should be to free up time, assured that no call will go unreceived, and all calls can be returned at the most convenient time.
But, rather than turn off the phones when occupied, people keep them on at all times.
They are never free.
In effect, cell phones now burden, not free people.
You can't stop progress.
Cell phones are with us; they are an integral part of our lives.
My complaint is not about their existence; they can be helpful.
My complaint isn't even about the danger of talking while driving.
My complaint is that in addition to helping people keep in touch, cell phones interfere with personal relationships, pushing people away.
It's wonderful to be able to call your honey from wherever you are (although lovers certainly have found ways to do that long before cell phones).
But how often have you seen fiends walking down the street - with one talking on the phone? Or, families at a restaurant or social event, with everyone chatting but the father (or mother) separated by the cell? What is intended as a together activity gets interrupted when one of the people "goes away" via the cell phone.
This technology is now used to undermine relationships.
There was a time when this issue would have been related to gender; women generally are more attuned to relationships, so they might have been more sensitive to someone pulling away from them.
But women have become as much a victim of the cell phone rudeness and isolation as men.
It's as if there is a status for not just having a cell phone but having it ring while out with others.
Does that mean you're important? You are doing big business? Your fan club is following you? A far cry from the novelty of seeing someone on skates or in a wheel chair talking on a phone, there was a movie that again suggests the extraordinary may become ordinary.
In Jet Lag," a woman is in the airport security line talking on her phone.
In mid-sentence, she puts the phone on the conveyor belt, walks through the screening, picks up the phone on the other side and resumes her conversation - without missing a beat.
The really best part though, is when she's on the toilet talking.
She goes to flush, drops the phone, and watches in horror as it swirls down the drain.
I'm glad she was using her best friend to help with her crisis of the moment, but I applaud the flushing, feeling the relief of women in the other stalls; they could now sit in peace.
Maybe I'm wrong, though.
Maybe cell phones can bring people together since she then borrowed one from a stronger at the airport who ended up as her husband.
