I got up early, went to work, ran, ate dinner and became one with the couch. It would take a lot to pry my heavy lidded eyes from Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy (yes, I love The Wheel). The following commercial, and its misguided message did the trick.
As the commercial unfolds, we learn that the vapid twenty-somethings we are about to meet are “real people” and not actors. They are instructed to hand over their cell phones, so that contact with the outside world for the next few minutes via any one of a million methods will not be possible.
Reluctantly, their electronic umbilical cords are passed across the table to the host.
A wood chipper is fired up by the only old fart you will see in this spot. He is wearing a work jumpsuit and actually knows how to operate a piece of machinery. Poor bastard, the “real people” think, he has to work for his living.
Into the wood chipper go the recently collected cell phones. These twits watch their precious phones get destroyed one by one. They whine, cry, gasp and stare. But they don’t move. For a long time. Finally, two dumb broads charge the whirring wood chipper, willing to part with a limb in an effort to save the devices that contain last weekends selfies taken in Midtown ( I always wait for one or both of these nitwits to stumble into the hungry blades Stephen King style, but alas, it never happens).
Cue the reactions from the real people. Tattooed plain white tee sits appropriately slumped in his chair, pissed and weighing his options (I’m ‘bout to get up on him). The dick with the man bun on the back of his head is confused (who could do something so ugly to something so beautiful) The black dude with the dreads looks at the host quietly, head cocked to the side (if I wasn’t so evolved...).
The real people are “a little lost” and “scared”, they threaten violence, and begin to complain of physical changes in their beings.
Then the moment that brings my rage to a full boil spills out of the mouth of Michael P (I believe his last name is Pussy).
“I feel like I’m in the pioneer days, or something.”
To Michael P and all of the other misguided assholes who can’t fathom that life existed before the cell phone, or that nothing of worth could possibly have been created without its inspiration, or that the generations that came before were simple: Fuck You.
You smug little shit. The world got along just fine before you appeared with your cell phone, personal computer and apps.
The pioneer days, in case you forgot, designed the Mustang, recorded the White Album, brought down the Nixon White House, stopped Nazi Germany and wrote To Kill A Mockingbird. FDR, Little Richard, Edgar Allen Poe, Jackie Robinson and the author of this rant, managed to get along just peachy without a cell phone at the ready.
My wife and I took a trip to new York City in 1979. You know how we found our way? With a fucking map. I drove, Andrea navigated and we bullshitted about where we were going and what we would see when we got there. You know what? We managed to navigate Manhattan, get a room on Central Park and see Neil Young walk into Studio 54. All without the help of the all important hand held device.
After taking in New York, we drove to Virginia Beach and had the time of our lives. Never once did I miss a word Andrea said because I was staring at a four inch screen trying to keep up with something my friends were doing five hundred miles away.
Tony and I head to the bar for Friday drinking. Never dawns on either one of us to bring in our cell phones. I am pleased to hang with my brother. I look forward to hearing his jokes and observations about the people around us. I love my wife, but I do not need to know what she is doing at that moment. I am busy boozing with the dapper fellow I walked in with.
Being connected is over rated. Being alone with your thoughts or being totally invested in the person you are with is cool. If you actually look at the face you are conversing with, and really listen to what is being said, you won’t miss a gesture or nuance. Long after you’ve forgotten a text about how stupid a friend's boss is, an inside joke or crooked smile from the person you are with will be remembered.
Ironic that the device touted as connecting you to everything is leading you to isolation of the worst kind.
Walk away from the phone. You’re missing everything.
Cheers, Jim!
PS The commercial touts the Chevy Volt allowing you to connect up to seven devices while driving...because that’s a good idea.
