The front page of this week's New Yorker shows a family of four standing on a beach somewhere tropical, Hawaii, Bali, Bora Bora, Fiji, Jamaica, and they are all standing with their backs to the ocean waves and they are each holding a cell phone. They are appropriately dressed with hats, shorts, tanktops and sunglasses but it appears they are busy texting. There is a shadow in front of them of a person taking their picture while they are doing this and the picture is appropriately named "Capturing the Memories" by Mark Ulriksen.
I am at a waterloo with my phone right now. I am still under contract with a company I have been with for a very long time and am trying to remain loyal to but my phone is so unreliable and shoddy that I have to smack it, turn it off and on and remove the battery to reset it so many times a day that I'm considering going to a flip phone and not messing with smart phones ever again. This is a perfect time for me to write about how annoying and how liberating smart phones and technology is right now. One moment I am praising it and the other I am cursing it.
I know that we celebrate technology - look how far it has gotten us. Look how useful it is. I no longer have to try to find a place by driving around and around the block. No one rolls down their window to ask directions because everyone has GPS. We don't have to ask how a restaurant is, we can look on Yelp. We don't have to hang signs to sell stuff we can Freecycle it or list it on Craigs List. We don't have to interview babysitters, we can go to Sitter City. And we can do all this with our cell phones - we don't have to sit down at a computer. But it isn't all good.
One of the things I will never get is the people who talk on cellphones in public restrooms. What could be so important when you are in the mall or at the restaurant or movie theatre that necessitates your loud voiced, full fledged, super important conversation while you are in a stall doing your business? Because here is the deal, it is not important at all. Maybe it makes you feel important to have so much to talk about you even have to talk about it while you are doing a number 2. (my mother reads this blog so I try to limit each subject to only one swear word) Not to mention it is gross and rude. Trust me, I am a person who loves to be around people in the bathroom, but at home. In public - I like to eliminate in private. I wish everyone else felt the same.
I hope the New Yorker features a picture of a family doing their business on the potty in a public restroom while all talking their cell phones and calls it "Capturing the Bullshit" by Joy McKeon. But I can't draw.