I don't have a cell phone.
My wife doesn't have a cell phone.
It's a modern necessity that I've been able to live without so far.
Maybe four times a year, we find ourselves thinking “Now would be a good time to have a cell phone.”
All our friends have cell phones. They just roll their eyes like a long-suffering spouse whenever the topic comes up.
All my coworkers have cell phones. Most have their phones and plans are paid for by the company as a benefit. They spend a lot of time fondling each other's hardware, ooh-ing and ah-ing over the latest innovation in technology or style. A cacophony of cutesy ringtones saturates the office. The theme to Mission Impossible. The theme to The Pink Panther. Some brutal sounding, random cadence croaked out by a DI, probably from a movie I haven't seen or don't remember. The theme to “Sex and the City”? Dude. You're a guy. What the hell? I really don't mind the ringtones, unless they leave their phone on and unattended in their cube and it takes three or four attempts for the idiot who's calling to finally understand that the person they're trying to call isn't going to answer the damned phone that I'm going to throw to the floor and stomp into a hojillion teeny high-tech pieces. I really don't see having a company phone as a benefit. It means that you're available 24/7. When you have a burgeoning development center in Bangalore, the whole 24-hour-a-day thing takes on new meaning. In my first work as a larval tech writer, my employer issued me a beeper. I came to resent their tugging at that electronic leash. So I'm not important enough for my current employer to issue me a cell phone. I'm completely fine with that.
My dad's livelihood depends on his cell phone. He's constantly driving through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and California. A key value he offers his customers is his support. If his customers can't reach him, they can just call somebody else. My dad has been pressuring us to get a prepaid cell phone. I can tell by the tension in his voice that he's frustrated by our recalcitrance.
I hear friends gripe about their plans. I hear coworkers trading myths and stories of people having their cellphone stolen from their house when they were on vacation and returning home to a $30,000 bill. I think about all the things I'd rather do with the money. I listen to my neighbors as they deal with teenage sons who leave their phones at the pool and then try to track down the folks using the phones and negotiate with the cell provider. I hear on the radio about how the number of automobile deaths has jumped this year, largely due to driver inattention. I don't need a cellphone in my car.
I would lose the phone, drop the phone on concrete, drop the phone in the bath, or just sit on the poor thing. I'd be the annoying idiot in the church/theater/restaurant who forgot to turn their phone off. I'd be one of those skinflint bastards who buys a no-name replacement battery for cheap and has the damn thing explode into flame in my pocket.
I don't want to take pictures with my phone. I don't want to play games on my phone. I don't want to ruin my eyesight by squinting at movies on my phone. I don't want to be the person talking to nobody on their hands-free set as they pick through the produce in the supermarket. I don't want my poker game interrupted every five minutes by the moron who can't find his own anus with both hands let alone the house where we're trying to play poker.
I resent the way the communications companies have wriggled their way into our lives and set their hooks. I'm disgusted by the massive reconsolidation of the industry and their sway over the people in government who are supposed to be representing our best interests instead of lining themselves a cushy nest with a seven-figure consultant job after we've voted them out of office.
In a lot of ways, wireless communication is still in its Wild West phase, especially in the United States. Criminals and wireless companies are constantly finding new ways to exploit phone users. Laws are passed only as fast as legislators can crawl while laden with industry cash.
I'm just not ready to throw in my lot with all that.
Pakeha