People Insist on Texting Me Instead of Calling

As I look around my writer’s room, I see a familiar friend, I am beginning to despise. I reach for my associate/nemesis and wonder, “How could something so useful become so despicable?”  Then, it hits me, I want to use my cell phone to make calls; however, people insist on sending me text messages. Having to type a message in order to communicate is abhorrent to me. It takes forever to finish a conversation; one that could be completed in short order talking with the person instead of sending portions of the message through typing.

Although I realize texting has its place, it is in no way a means to an end. I, also, do not want to use my phone to access the internet, play video games, or strain my eyes attempting to watch a movie. I guess I’m just the exception to the rule. I often ask my wife, “Why don’t you just call them and get it over with instead of wearing out your thumbs over an extended period?”

Being the sweet person she is, I’ll get an answer such as, “Hush.”

Down-trodden and put in my place, I turn to my computer and begin to type on my present task, be it novel, short story or blog.

Then, I think, hmm, Perhaps I jumped the gun, ragging on the typed word as I did. It seems as though I have written myself into dire straits overthinking the practice of texting . . . Nah, my way of thinking is always correct. If you don’t believe me, just ask me.

For now, have a great week and may God shine his light upon you and yours.

Two Steps Back

Cathode ray tube (Photo credit: Micah Sittig)

Hello and thank you for joining me for part 2 of “Do You Really Want Your Plane to be That Plain?” There was just too much good stuff to fit in a single post. So let’s get down to it, shall we? If you haven’t read my last post please start there.

I’m going to start by telling on myself. I mentioned in my last post that my idiosyncrasies were another story. And since this is another story, here goes.

I am a musician. I have played guitar for years and have always loved good, hard rock. Now with the amplifiers of today, you can get nearly any sound you can imagine. However, I refuse to play on anything but a tube amp. Tube amps were replaced by transistors, and when this happened, the warm sound of the tube was lost.

I had my small amp rebuilt several years ago, and since tubes are not easy to come by, it was a bit of a chore to obtain the necessary implements. In fact, I think the only manufacturer of the old-style  tube is located in Russia. I was able to find mine through some friends who owned thirty-year-old stock. And viola! An old amp with and old sound.

Some folks, including myself, are not particularly fond of the microwave oven. I do own one, but only use it occasionally to heat up certain foods. If you’ve ever tried to cook a fresh piece of meat in a microwave, you’ll find that it cooks quickly, turns gray, and depending on the cut and species, tastes somewhere between a clump of smooth mud and salt-treated saw dust. All in all, a great idea for communication towers, but as far as food? Start a fire instead.

Now, I come to the crème de la crème. A small portion of the population lives without computers, cell phones, microwaves, and probably still uses a dial telephone. I’ve coined a term for these individuals. They shall henceforth be known as “The Elitist Hold-Outs.” They work in their gardens each summer, they shy away from anything more technologically advanced than a ballpoint pen, they cook three great meals each day and go to church on Sunday.

I affectionately call mine “grandma.”

So there you have it. The lack of technology in a technological world. It can be done. And sometimes, maybe it should. Oh, and just one more personal idiosyncrasy. In a world inundated with new movies almost weekly, my family tells me that I am slightly behind the times, insofar as I rarely watch a film that doesn’t include a shark, tornado, or some combination thereof.

So I put in my VHS copy of Jaws, unplug the microwave, and keep an eye out the window. I hear tell there may be a twister looming on the horizon.

Follow the yellow brick road…

Wait for the Beep

Telecommunication-Antenna__36092 (Photo credit: Public Domain Photos)

Consider the microwave. Consider the cell phone and the pager. While you’re at it, consider anything in your life that goes beep, buzz, blurp, zing, or plays a catchy little tune that you yourself have programmed it to play.

Do you panic when you discover that you’ve left your cell phone at home? “How will I make it through the day without my electronic communications device?” you say.

Do you find yourself wanting to put your fist through the door of your microwave after seventeen courses of beeps, reminding you that your coffee is getting cold?

Years before the electronic boom, cars, motorcycles, jackhammers, and the like were considered noise pollution. Now, everyone has a different sound exuding from their person at one time or the other. This not being bad enough, the problem is exacerbated by the multiple conversations heard anytime and anywhere.

Can you imagine if the signal from every radio, television, cell phone, pager, or transmitter were visible? What would it look like? Would we be able to see anything else, including each other? Would it be a solid hue or more like black and white ant-races on a broken TV?

And what really boggles the mind…. How do all these millions of signals, being sent simultaneously, get to their intended destination? On one hand, the technological age we have entered is amazing; on the other, annoying at best, disruptive at worst.

As far as attempting to draw a grand analogy between technology and writing, give your fingers a rest, stop texting, and call me.