Something terrifying happened to me the other day. Something that shook to the foundations my views of myself, the world and life itself.
I — brace yourself, because this is really scary — left home without my cell phone.
No, really.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I swear it’s true. I walked out the door, hopped in my car, started her up and drove away. All while my phone lay on the bedside stand, quietly sucking juice from its electrical umbilical cord.
I was miles away before I noticed its absence.
“Hey Siri,” I said. My phone’s name is Siri, because some genius at Apple decided that was somehow cooler than Phil or Edna. Personally, I hate the name Siri, but then, I’ve never been crazy about my own name either. I’ve always thought that, in a fairer world, it would be either Dimitri Papageorgiou or Max Steele.
At any rate, Siri didn’t answer.
“Hey Siri,” I said again, this time with gusto. I wanted to ask her if it was going to rain or snow; my car needed washing and that’s a factor. She still didn’t answer.
That’s when I noticed the magnetic holder in which she usually rests while I’m driving was empty. I nearly lost control of the car while frantically checking my pockets.
Finally it hit me; my phone was miles away. For the first time in nearly ten years, I was on my own.
If I wanted to know weather conditions, I would have to look out the window. What am I, Amish?! What if I wanted to check on a movie showtime, or find the ten Chinese restaurants closest to my current location? I couldn’t, that’s what if!
I almost never use my phone to make a voice call — that’s too close to actual, human interaction — but it does sometimes happen. What if I needed to do this? Like, if my car broke down? What then?
Driving along the freeway, surrounded by hundreds of other motorists, I suddenly understood, completely, how the pioneers must have felt, navigating their covered wagons into the uncharted West. Like my Little House on the Prairie forebears, I was an island, cut off from the rest of humanity, from civilization.
It was terrifying but exhilarating. For the first time in a decade, if someone wanted to get hold of me, well, too bad. If my boss wanted to remind me of an impending deadline … bummer. If the people at Verizon felt a pressing need to inform me my current month’s bill was 27 seconds overdue, they could just stuff it.
The leash was broken. The collar was home on my nightstand.
I was free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I was free at last!
Of course, when I finally got home the phone went right back in my pocket. Pioneer dreams to the contrary, I’m a creature of my time. And I work for a living; I have to stay in touch.
But someday I’ll retire. On that day, Siri’d better learn to swim, because I’ll be tossing Apple’s premier product into the deep end of my favorite fishing lake.
If you need to get hold of me after that, write a letter.
Catch Mike Taylor’s Reality Check radio program every weekday at 5:30 p.m. on WGLM, m106.3 on your FM dial.
mtaylor@staffordgroup.com
(616) 548-8273
1 comment:
Funny article! I knew you were a musician, but had no idea you were a writer, as well. I feel better about Lori's decision, now. Because, you know what they say about musicians :)
I give you guys my blessing, which I am sure is a relief to you both.
Post a Comment