I don’t own a cell phone.
Why is that? It’s very simple.
I don’t want one. I really don’t.
And in case you are thinking that I am that much of a luddite, no really, I don’t have a landline either.
This has nothing to do with being anti-technology, or getting older – even when I was younger, pre-computers, I never spoke on the phone unless I absolutely had to – but it does have everything to do with quality of life. My life. I have my rich online experiences and I communicate with my family and friends daily online. I just don’t see the need to be inextricably tethered to a device that, well, frankly, disturbs my calm.
I can’t stand talking into a void. “Are you there?,” I constantly find myself asking the device. I like visual, face to face contact when I’m having a conversation. The static and the choppy conversations also make me edgy. I tend to yell a lot when I’m on a borrowed cell phone, no one seems to be able to hear me either. It’s just a nuisance.
I’m not opposed to using a cell phone for a job, I totally get that I would have to have one, but while I’m unemployed, and it’s not in my budget, unh-unh.
And before you query, “but…, but…, how do you travel?” Well, my dears, the old fashioned way. I just point myself in a direction and go, I see what’s in front of me, and I ask locals for directions. I eat what’s put on my plate unless there’s meat and then I eat around it, and I pretend that I’m the first traveler to arrive where ever it is that I am.
I’ll just bide my time until the neural net (telepathy) gets here …