Telephones

Ah, the telephone.

Consider it with me for a moment.

What a truly amazing invention. My family had two of them—mounted of all places, on the walls of our house—when I was growing up.

I worked at the Omni Hotel in downtown Atlanta in their maintenance department when I was in college. What amazed me, a simple country boy, back then was that the Omni Hotel had telephones beside the toilet in the bathrooms of the guest rooms, in 1980. I wondered to myself “who are these people that are so important that they can’t go to the BATHROOM without having a telephone?

Are YOU that important?

Having a telephone is both a pleasure and a royal pain in the arse because if you have a telephone, people expect to actually be able to talk to you. Back in the old days, if they couldn’t speak to you on your telephone, they had to call you back again later.

Not any more.

Somebody—I forget who—invented the answering machine…

and Voice Mail, two other pains in the arse.

These inventions created a new game people love to play:

Phone Tag.

And then, not long after all of the above happened, along came the Cellular Telephone.

It’s supposed to be better, because you can take it (the cell phone) with you.

I think that it’s not (better), but I’ve had one (a cell phone) since 1990.

It seems that everybody’s got one (a cell phone) these days, and there must have been a memo put out that if you have one (a cell phone) that you must use it…

CONSTANTLY.

Are these things (the cell phones) glued to people’s ears or something?

No?

Oh, you’re right, those that don’t have the wireless “Bluetooth” headsets on them (their cell phones) like my friend Wayne has are stuck actually having to hold them (the cell phones) against their heads with their hands, so they (the cell phones) are not actually glued to people’s ears.

I woke up this morning hearing a FOX News story about president Bush being interrupted by the loud ring of a reporter’s cell phone during a White House news conference with the Vietnamese Prime Minister.

It seems that President Bush hates cell phones and that the reporters had been admonished to turn off their pagers and cell phones before the event started.

Did I mention that I like him (President Bush?) We have something in common—President Bush and I both hate them (cell phones, and public cell phone users.)

Back in 1997 I saw comedian James Gregory solve a lady’s cell phone addiction at the Punch Line comedy club in Atlanta.

Here is what happened.

Before the show the MC came out and made an announcement saying blaa blaa blaa, and please turn off all pagers and cell phones.

Then the opening comedian, I forget his name, came out and did his thing. He was actually pretty funny.

Two overpriced drinks later, it was finally James Gregory’s turn.

James came out and was his usual funny self. About half way through the performance, an audience member’s cell phone rings. She answers it, then hangs up. Mr. Gregory paused and gave her a dirty look.

A few moments later, the lady’s cell phone rings, AGAIN, and she answers it, AGAIN.

Mr. Gregory stops his performance, and asks her “Is everything OK?” “I know that it must be an emergency because the club told you to turn those damn cell phones off.”

The lady answers him.

She says “I’m sorry, but my kids are at home with a sitter.”

James says “Can I talk to her?”

THE LADY ACTUALLY WALKS UP TO THE STAGE AND HANDS HER CELLPHONE TO JAMES GREGORY.

James takes the phone, puts it to his ear, and says “can you hear me?”

He then says “well, see if you can hear this…” and smashes the phone to pieces as he bangs it against the sidewall of the stage.

The crowd roars its approval.

The lady that owned it (the cell phone) rises from her seat with indignity, utters some profanity laced statement of complaint, turns to balance of the guests in her party, and demands that they leave the club.

She (the cell phone owner) and her date (husband, boyfriend, escort, someone else’s husband, or otherwise) then stomp out of the club, accompanied by a few of their party.

The crowd roared their approval.

She (the cell phone owner) came back inside the club to admonish the balance of her party to leave with her.

They look at each other, have a brief discussion, but they wouldn’t leave.

The former cell phone owner leaves again.

The crowd roars their approval, AGAIN.

I loved every minute, and I sincerely hope that the FAA and the airlines do not allow them (cell phones) to be used in flight, because commercial airliners are the only place on this planet that are safe from them (cell phones.)