Totally Cellular

I lived the first 40 years of my life without a cell phone, and have now had one for the past ten. At first we just had one phone, used only when necessary. Then as the girls got older and started driving, we got a 4-phone plan so they would have one to carry with them for emergencies. Well, as anyone with teenagers knows, "emergencies" soon became multiple minutes of overtime charges on the monthly bill. Then they discovered texting, so we got the basic texting plan. This also turned into extra money, with Fred and Erica being the biggest culprits. Now we have unlimited texting and seldom incur overages on anything.
What amazes me about these phones is that we all got along fine without them for so long, and now it's like losing a limb if we forget it at home when we walk out the door. Or if the battery goes dead and the charger isn't available. Or if I'm in the hills of Mindoro or the remote Amberg Hilton, where good signals are few and far between. It's not that I talk on it that much, and 99% of my calls are with Fred, Erica, and Katie. I just like to know that it's there if I'd really need it.
I try to be polite and not answer calls or texts when I'm with a friend--that's what voicemail is for, right? However, it's obvious that some people are so self-absorbed that every call has to be taken immediately--or when they are supposed to be spending time with you, they are calling other people instead. It's like, "This person is boring, are you doing something better?"
I've heard phones ring at weddings, in theaters, and in classes. Movie theaters are alight with phone screens right before the show starts, as if everyone has to check for any up-to-the-second communications before turning it off for 90 minutes. I only recently learned how to put my phone on vibrate--before that I'd just leave it in the car. For all I know, my little LG can bake a cake--but I've never taken the time to explore how to fully use it.
This morning I did some shopping in Rhinelander, and I was treated to several amusing examples of the "I'm in Public But Nobody's Listening" syndrome. Why do people think that they can talk at full volume in close quarters, but no one else will hear their private business?
Standing in line at the Walgreens pharmacy, I got to hear a young guy in his 20s arguing with his girlfriend. "Don't you care enough to come over here and see me?" he demanded. Ah, a long distance relationship. "What's so degrading to you about that?" a few minutes later. Only hearing one side of the conversation, I was left to imagine to what he referred: some weird fetish? A girl from the big city dissing little old Rhinelander? Next I went to Kohl's and encountered a snarling woman with a cartful of holiday items: "I'm not hauling out all the Christmas crap this year, it's too much work! Nobody cares anyway!" Joy to the World!
The best, though, was in the toy aisle at Shopko. A frazzled-looking mom was talking to a kid who was apparently home sick. She said, "I'll be home in a half hour; can't you wait till then?" Pause. "Well go in the medicine cabinet and it should be on the second shelf. But don't take your dad's pills!!" she warned emphatically. Hmm, I wondered. What's he taking? Viagra? Arsenic? All three people were standing right next to me as they shared their private lives, but none acted as if I were even there.
So yes, the wireless revolution is wonderful, annoying, rude, convenient and hilarious. It makes us want-- Oops, gotta go. My phone is ringing.