Not really people…but how they use their cell phones….

I’m a proud New Yorker!  Born and bred with the attitude to boot. And until recently, I was a reverse commuter: that is someone who was working outside the city.  My new job has literally turned things around for me and I am a full-fledged commuter into The Big Apple.  That being said, I have a daily commute using our metro transportation system and therefore I am now exposed, for almost 30 minutes each way, to the rudeness, irresponsibility, and disrespectfulness of the general populous. What is to follow is my rant, my disappointment, and at times my disgust at some of the ill-behavior that people have when using their cell phones –especially in public.  Rather than putting you through some sort of 10 commandments type of diatribe, being a former teacher, I would put this in quiz form.  How would you fare in the John’s Soap-Box Cell Phone Challenge?

1. When people cannot escape the banality of your cell phone conversation because they are stuck on the bus, train, or a grounded airplane, what would be your response?
   a.    Cover my mouth with my free hand so that people will only hear a loud indiscernible mumble.
   b.      Answer the call and politely tell the caller that I am unable to speak and I will call back as soon as I can.
   c.       Screw it – answer the call and not give a damn to who’s listening to my entire conversation – that’s what IPODs are for to drown out my dumb cell phone conversations.
2. When choosing a ring-tone for my cell phone:
   a.      If I have a newer phone, I will tailor my ring-tones to my environment (e.g. simple non-fancy tones for work and more fun ring-tones for home)
   b.      Put the phone on vibrate and place in my pocket so that when I get a call it is discreet and not a public announcement of how popular I think I am.
   c.       Screw it – I will use the “Cows Farting Samba” ring-tone for my text messages and “Cats-In-A-Blender ” sound effect for my friends calling you.
3. During public performances:
   a.      Put your phone on vibrate and if it goes off go to the lobby to answer it.
   b.      Turn your phone off completely and check your messages after a break.  You’re not that important and whoever’s calling you can wait.
   c.       Screw it – Interrupting a public performance is not a priority for me nor is it an embarrassment so doesn’t worry me about interrupting the performance.
4. How many cell phones do you actually have?
   a.      I have one cell phone: level of felt importance (between 1-5: 1=not too important; 5=pretty important) = 2
   b.      I have two cell phones, but I’m technically savvy enough to forward my one cell phone to the other, so I don’t look too ridiculous answering two phones: level of felt importance (between 1-5: 1=not too important; 5=pretty important) = 5
   c.       I have two cell phones and I think I look very cool and important answering both: level of felt importance (between 1-5: 1=not too important; 5=pretty important) = 30
5. Pick the answer you most likely agree with:
   a.      I can talk at the same volume that I can talk with landline phones.  I know that most good quality cell phones have sensitive microphones and I need not shout into the phone.
   b.      In a crowded setting I need to speak louder on a cell phone and contribute to the din of the noise.  No need for me to excuse myself and find a quieter place.  I don’t mind shouting into my phone no matter what I sound like to the other people on the other end of the phone.
   c.       Screw it- I don’t care what I sound like to people who are around me and on the other end of the phone.  I’m too self-absorbed and important not to be.
6. When I’m driving, I:
   a.      Will answer my cell phone using a hands-free device and tell the caller that I’m driving and to make it quick as it is dangerous to do two things at once especially controlling a 2 ton piece of metal moving at varying speeds.
   b.      Will answer my cell phone using a hands-free device and tell the caller that I need a moment to pull over so that I can continue the conversation safely.
   c.       Will answer my cell phone and put the phone to my ear so that I can still use my other hand to control the 2 ton piece of metal moving at varying speeds.  Screw it for other drivers – they can drive around me and avoid me as I don’t pay attention to the road, other drivers, the law and other hazards.  I’m way too important to miss this call.
7. I wear a bluetooth earpiece because:
   a.       I am observant to State laws that require that I own one, but I only put it on when I’m in the car expecting a phone call.
   b.       I wear it only when I’m expecting a phone call as it makes things easier to have my hands free so that I can multitask.
   c.       I wear it as a fashion accessory anytime my phone is near due to the fact that at any given moment, a critical call can come through and I need to answer it while I’m gesticulating wildly yelling into it.
8. While I’m in the company of others:
   a.       I put the cell phone on mute and at periodic moments I’ll quickly glance at the call log to see what callers I’ve missed.
   b.      I put the cell phone on vibrate and will screen each call that comes in, so that I will give the company that I’m with the impression that they are important, but the call coming in is just as important.
   c.      All incoming calls are more important than the company I’m keeping.  They are insignificant compared to my cell phone.
9. When using the restroom:
   a.     I would never answer my phone.
   b.     I only would text quietly.
   c.      Screw it – who cares what people in the other stall think.
10. While waiting in line at the store:
    a.      I would never make or take a call.
    b.      I would only check my messages or texts.
    c.      It’s a perfect time to multitask.  Who cares that I might hold up the line a little longer.

So how did you answer?  Are you rude, discourteous, and impolite, a hazard and annoyance to others? To me — it all seems like common sense to me doesn’t it???

As of September 2007, there have been 110 million of them sold worldwide. [Thank you, Mr. Jobs!] including one glossy perfect black 160-gig video model to this blogger, over which I sufficiently ooh-ed and ahh-ed and petted and grinned and sighed and wondered why the hell the black ones still comes with white earbuds [come on, Steve!!!]

Because the iPod now does video [no comment, Tom about my Bittorrents!], podcasts and pictures and it plays [mother-of-the-year] Britney Spears new CD, Blackout at deep ear-massaging levels, and it does calendars and alarm clocks and games and the hilarious Tiki Bar TV, and did I mention the accessories and the accessories and the accessories.

Because the iPod does everything you want it to do it doesn’t do nearly enough. It is perfect but deeply flawed. It is immaculately conceived but lacking in countless vital functions. You have many untapped needs. You have countless unfulfilled experiences. The iPod is so good, you cannot help but wish it would go much, much further.

A few things that I wish the iPod could do…

1) I can see no reason why I should not be able to set iPod to automatically delete any photos in which I look overweight or like my father, (sorry Dad!). You’d think this feature would be, you know, obvious.

2) Your thumb can travel all around iPod’s sensual touch wheel and scroll through all the menus but you still will find no command that instructs iPod to tell you to stop eating after 8:00 p.m. or to push back the plate when you’re full. It cannot tap into my body, tell me what would provide balm for the odd pain in my shoulder. IPod is a lousy health guide. A design oversight? We shall see.

3) Unfortunately, iPod is unable to detect, even at its most subtle adjustments and even with the Sound Check feature enabled, the actual level of immeasurable vileness of lying politicians. That said, in independent tests, iPod reportedly fails to play any song even remotely joyous or upbeat or sexy in the presence of any of these rabid hunks of tainted political meat, thus reinforcing the wonderful truism that elegance and beauty will, in fact, refuse to perform in the vicinity of hot, quivering evil.

4) IPod, as yet, cannot quite calm an overemotional 3-1/2 year old, explain why he might suddenly, without prompting, burst into tears and/or song, or help him interpret why the world doesn’t work in the fashion he wants it to. Is this too much to ask?

5) Interestingly, you can try to turn iPod’s volume way up in a vain attempt to block out the sound of said spouse yelling terrified comments at you regarding how you almost got both of you killed by weaving through traffic, but it still doesn’t make her forget how much you love an adrenaline rush every now and then. Unfortunately, iPod is, so far, lousy at relationship negotiation.

6) I wish for iPod to be sitting next to me on my desk, riding alongside me in my car, resting comfortably in my bag and I should hear a delightful, ethereal chime and look over and see, on the gorgeous crystal display, a line of text, of instruction, of clear advice. “Invest 10 grand in Google stock today.” “That funny growth on your back is totally benign.” “Your other sock is behind the couch.” “You are totally right about the nature of God.” “Drink more water, stop thinking about sex, and here’s a great idea for a new book.” That sort of thing.

7) You want to rub iPod on face. To clutch iPod to chest as you sleep. To rub iPod all over body, especially in places which might be tending to sag, peel, wrinkle, droop, pale, smell, deflate, bruise, smooch, hiss, blur, wilt, tilt, shake, deteriorate, depreciate, demotivate, flap, spasm, shed, weaken or drool. IPod should be the rejuvenator of flesh. IPod the fountain of youth, constantly renewing itself through newer and cooler models you cannot possibly keep up with without going insane.

Finally, iPod should be — and hell, maybe it is — the eraser of time, the levitator of spirit, the perfect link to calm intergalactic knowledge that there is indeed far, far more to all of this whirling blue dot and this sagging pink flesh than your meek 4-billion-song-capacity brain can possibly comprehend. After all, isn’t this what all our finest arts, our deepest creations, our most brazen gizmos are meant to do, to reassure, to provide some solace, to remind us of our link to the Great Mystery?

That, and automatically delete any and all traces of Celine Dion? You’re damned right it is.

Thoughts, comments, let me know what you think.