An unwanted phone

I don’t normally think of myself as a Luddite, a name given to 19th century protestors who believed the mechanical looms being introduced into England threatened the jobs of skilled weavers and knitters. Nevertheless, I resisted purchasing a smartphone for as long as I could. I have owned personal computers since the late 1980s, and I have had a tablet for the past ten years. But the prospect of being on call 24/7 was not a happy one. Surely I could get along with only an iPad as long as I could find a wifi connection?

But in July I flew to California to visit my ailing sister, and I quickly discovered that not having a smartphone was endangering my general health and well-being. A twice cancelled flight to the Hollywood Burbank Airport sent me to Salt Lake City for an unanticipated and unwanted overnight stay, while my worried wife at home had to make phone calls to alter my rental car and hotel reservations. At the Salt Lake airport I asked a young staff worker where I could find the hotel shuttles, and he instructed me to call a certain number. When I told him I had no phone, a look of horror came to his youthful face, but he was kind enough to make the call for me.

Weeks later I finally had a smartphone, making me an unwilling owner of a means of communication I was certain I did not need.

Oblivious on the curb

I find myself sympathizing with someone living in, say, 1920 who resists buying an automobile, reasoning that his horse and buggy will do just fine. In the meantime, roads are being paved and automobiles are zooming past him at what must seem like breakneck speed. At some point purchasing a Model T is no longer optional, because an entire transportation infrastructure is being built for it.

Yet every new technology has its dark side. Even before the invention of the smartphone, I hated seeing, say, two adolescent boys walking side by side with one on his phone talking to someone else. Not exactly conducive to deepening friendship. And now, with people staring at their smartphones, too many linger on the curb, oblivious to the traffic in the streets. Approaching an intersection, a driver has to be extra cautious, weighing whether the pedestrian will step unannounced into the street with his head still in his phone. An uptick of vehicle-pedestrian accidents in our city would seem to have an obvious cause.

Yes, I now have a new phone, and I have a new number, which I will not publish here. And yes, you can now call me at it. But let’s not allow a new means of communication to distract us from connecting with the flesh-and-blood people around us. And by all means don’t step into the streets without looking up!