You Rang?


One of the top five days in my life was the day Mom and Dad presented me with a Princess Phone and my own line – CHAPEL 7 – 6575. I was 13 and instantly hooked into the communication stream. Today, 92% of 2-year-olds have their own email addresses.

My first communication device was used for only two things – talking to boys and talking to boys. No one came out with a new version of my Princess Phone every three months. The only thing my parents had to invest in was a longer cord so I could walk all over the house with the phone attached to my ear.

The next communication apparatus that had any effect on me was the Clip-on Pager. Personally, I never owned one because none of my short dresses were clip-on compatible, but Dearly Departed Husband had one. I dubbed it his electronic leash.

No matter where he was, day or night, that thing could go off. The buzz was akin to an early morning dentist visit with one angry hygienist – it could rattle your teeth down to the jawbone.

Being a salesman on the go, DDH was first in line to buy the latest communication gadget – a cell phone. It cost $2,400 and weighed more than a modern day cell tower. It took almost a day to install the base in the car. Every time I would jump in the passenger’s side, this metal monster would put a runner in my pantyhose.

Once again, technology moved forward, whether I wanted it to or not, and suddenly I found myself instantly connected to the world with my own palm-sized cell phone. More importantly, in my mid-30s, I could still see the numbers.

I was in heaven – a business owner who, on the go, could visit with clients then jump in the car and scream at her employees about all the deadlines they needed to make in the next 12 minutes.

It was pure bliss until some idiot came up with texting. And even I know you’re not supposed to put your mascara on while you’re driving.

No longer did anyone have to buzz or ring me. Now they could just write me. That’s when I knew postage stamp prices were about to soar.

Because my eyesight for small print was failing and I was at a 40-something age of “I absolutely refuse to wear readers” stage, I totally ignored the texting thing. Every new addition to the cell phone since then has passed me by. If you can’t see it, why do it?

I did break down and let a handsome man buy me a blue tooth and I actually like it. Now I can chop vegetables, put on mascara and change mom’s diaper hands free and never have to stop talking – which has always been my ultimate goal.

I know you can connect to cyberspace via your cell phone now, but that requires an extra 20 bucks a month and I’m not sure I really want to be connected to the rest of the world anyway. There is a reason I moved from the Big City to the country, after all.

Just the other day before I headed out to the garden to plant onions, I heard the TV announcer saying, “Finally! Email that follows you wherever you go!”  All I could think was what those follow-me-emails could do to my garden.  The abundance of spam might cause my lettuce to bolt, but then again it might not matter when the Prince repays my kindness with $50 million locked in his Swiss bank account.

Maybe the latest technology isn’t that bad after all.

Mikie Baker 

Copyright Medina Mikie, Ink. 2011

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