Cell phones evolve into anti-social communication
My Way
by Ursula Feist
When my family happened to see my cell phone, the reaction was a chorus of “but Granny that is old. Very, very old!” I also got looks of condescending pity from my grandchildren.
I wondered what “old” meant in that context, and took my phone to the Telus counter at the mall. I asked the young salesgirl to show me their youngest model. It seemed so fragile compared to the one I was carrying. True, mine weighs more, takes up more space in my purse, doesn’t take photographs and doesn’t send or receive text messages. I showed it to the salesgirl: “Does it work?” she asked bluntly; “It works fine,” I told her, “it’s just that my family considers it too old.” “So what,” she said, “it works, so why change it?”
She also confirmed that Telus’ contracts run for only two instead of three years because models have to be changed to please teenagers. I walked away with my old, ugly and unsophisticated cell, though I saved some money, for once.
I only use it in emergencies anyway. Only one or two people know my number, and I rarely have it on. I have never been a telephone maniac; my friends often reproach me for rarely picking up any phone and for not calling often enough.
The way people use cell phones indiscriminately disturbs me. Sitting at a dinner table, walking on the street, or being in a crowded bus and hearing people yakking away about nothing is just so irritating. I really don’t care to overhear what others are having for lunch or how badly the lady at the next table is dressed.
I also find it rude to watch people taking messages and answering them when I am trying to get a two-way conversation going. I usually forget what I was going to say by the time they are ready respond. I often wonder whether it was worth meeting someone who is so addicted to a cell phone that its presence has become like that of a buzzing insect that won’t go away. It makes my company seem totally redundant. Do cell phone conversations fulfill all the needs of a friendship?
English teachers complain that their students cannot string two simple sentences together. How could they? Just look at their message alphabet: r=are, u=you, lol=laughing out loud.
Perhaps I am exaggerating, but I do think that it is a pity that our language is “cold bloodedly being murdered,” as Rex Harrison bemoaned in My Fair Lady. Syntax is no longer taught – or so I am told – and our illiteracy rate is climbing at an alarming rate. I feel sorry for the members of the blackberry, blueberry or raspberry generation who will not be able to write coherently. Public Relations and communication are popular subjects to take. I was under the impression that working in that field requires writing skills. Or is that also becoming an antiquated perception?
Unhappily, letter writing is a thing of the past. I have not received a personal letter in ages and I miss it. It was so nice when a friend took the time and trouble to think about what they were going to say in a letter or card. Emails do not replace a thoughtful personal letter. I also cannot stand those circular letters that come once a year and I can never work up enough patience to read them to their boring end. I like writing on a blank beautiful card (not on those with silly pre-printed messages) then putting a stamp on the envelope and dropping it into a letter-box. There is something so comfortably old-fashioned about it!
