A Phone in Hand is Worth Two on the Charger


I’m sure my life has gone out of control when within a mere 60 seconds I have switched from a call on my cell phone to take a call on my cordless, landline phone, and while I’m making short work with the second caller in order to get back to the first, the first rings again with a third caller. Did you get all that?

Today’s world has blown even my usually flexible, always-open-to-progress mind. My two phones ringing back and forth in my hands like bell choir bells with a mind of their own are just the thing to put me over the top.

My grandparents would have been amazed by just the concept of a cordless phone, let alone these tiny, electronic wonders that are fast becoming an additional appendage to the human form.

New decisions have to be made. For a while I tried to choose between the two phones. If I used my cell phone, so handy in my pocket, it might not be charged enough to see me through the time I’m away from home later. If I go get the house phone from its charging cradle, I must put aside everything I’m working on to get up.

Laziness wins. I use my cell phone. I can see why many have given up their land lines for a solely cellular life, yet something remains to be said for the established routine of our house phone.

Besides the fact of being listed in a directory and available to all the world and its telemarketers (is that anything like wearing your heart on your sleeve?), the answering machine connected to our house phone enables all of us in the household to keep check on each other, a necessity for us.

Another pivotal problem is which number to leave with whom. Should I rely on our old home phone to handle most of my business, in hopes that I’ll remember to check the answering machine, or should I allow any given party into the inner sanctum of my cellular world, allowing more potential access to my time, wherever I go?

These are some in the ongoing stream of questions that arise as technology advances. Soon there will be specialized counselors certified to call on for just such dilemmas concerning the electronics in our lives.

I would have already consulted a techno-shrink to vent my frustration over punching all the right buttons on my phone after a series of prompts, holding for what seemed an eternity, then hearing a dial-tone as my call dropped without reaching a live operator.

I could have vented my frustration about the long conversation I had with Rasti in Pakistan, who tried his darnedest to pronounce English so I could understand why my Internet connection wasn’t working.

With both my phones on my lap or my computer desk, there is no more indecision. The world can come to me as it sees fit and I’ll be ready. If I discover there already are such professionals as techno-shrinks, I can call them to ask which phone I should use to call them.

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