Cell Phoning for Dummies

There are a lot of things that I used to be able to do that I can't any longer. I used to be able to do a pretty decent cartwheel. I used to be able to do a backbend from a standing position. I used to be able to do advanced math. I used to be able to stay up past ten thirty. Those ships have sailed for me, and I'm not really sad about it.

There are plenty of things I can do now that I couldn't do when I was young, like shrug off irritants that used to drive me batty, walk into a room full of people that are prettier than I am and not feel inferior, and qualify for decent insurance rates.  I don't have a whole lot of interest in re-learning calculus, and my daily activities don't call for the flexibility required to do a backbend. I only need to be flexible enough to put on the occasional pair of pantyhose.

One thing I do need to re-learn how to do is talk on the phone. Back in the mid-eighties, I was a champion at that skill. I would spend every free moment on the phone with my friends. This was before the days of cell phones, or even cordless phones, and we were fortunate enough to have purchased a house with a wall phone pre-installed in the bathroom, directly over the toilet paper. This was a great place to hide and discuss whatever secret things I discussed when I was 14.  I could do this for hours, or until someone else needed the bathroom (we only had one full bath) or the phone.

Something switched about the time I turned into a grownup, and I no longer wanted to talk on the phone at length. I think that's pretty normal, but it got to the point where it was something I dreaded. It got worse and worse, until now, when my phone rings, and my reaction is, "What now?" instead of "Ooooh oooh oooh! Who wants to talk to me?" This is probably because back then when the phone rang it was someone offering an invitation to do something fun, or to share a juicy bit of gossip, or to tell a funny story. Now, when the phone rings it is almost always because someone wants something from me.

I really don't think I have begun losing my hearing, despite my family history, and despite the fact that the other day my son described a girl in his class as saying she was what I heard as "black person tolerant." I was horrified, and snapped, "What did she say?" "Lactose intolerant," was the response. Ah, yes, much better. For the most part, if I am in the room with someone, I can hear what they say, and I am often what I call "the translator," meaning that I am the one who has to explain to everyone else what the other person said. So I really don't think it is my hearing. Yet.

But it has gotten to the point where I can hardly hear anything on the telephone.  I get maybe one out of three words, and have to use context to figure out the rest  I'm going to blame this on technology that is higher in ‘convenience’ and lower in quality. I don't have this problem nearly as often when I am talking on my office phone, which is plugged into the wall, made out of hardcore plastic, and the receiver is plugged into the phone itself by a curly cord that self tangles to such a degree that at least once every two weeks I pull the whole thing off the desk when trying to answer it, resulting in some really awkward beginnings to professional calls.

If the other person is on a cell phone, I can generally figure out what they are talking about, but if someone is trying to give me, say, all ten digits in a phone number, I am at a loss. And if I am talking to them while on my cell phone and they are on their cell phone, forget it.  We might as well have tin cans and string across the 15 mile gap between our locations. 

And that doesn't even get into etiquette. Part of that is a technology problem, too Take caller ID. I almost always know who is calling me before I answer the phone, and since I'm calling a cell phone which is carried in the back pocket of one particular individual, I know who will answer. So, do we still have to go through the whole polite ritual, "Hello?" "Hello, this is Lori, may I please speak with Mike?"  "This is Mike." Can't we skip that whole mess? Is it socially acceptable to just pick up the phone and say, "Hi Mike" instead of hello? But what if it is a business call, or someone I don't know? Is the formal ritual still necessary? Not a clue.

And how do you hang up? This is another thing that seems to take longer than necessary. I hesitate to just say "Bye" and hang up when I am done talking, for the same reason that I type, "sincerely" or "very truly yours" at the end of a letter instead of just writing my name. So I say something like, "Take care," which provokes a response like, "You, too," which isn't "Goodbye", so is it ok to hang up at the end of that, or is that rudely abrupt? Must we complete the dance?  "Bye, then." "Bye." You hang up, no, you hang up, no, you. Let's count to ten and do it together.

I'm even worse with IM or text conversations. Since we are typing, and since, with text messages, I am limited to only so many per month, is it ok to just disengage when the first person says goodbye?  Or if I'm done, can I just type "GTG" or "TTFN" or -- heaven forbid a real word -- "BYE" and quit checking to see if there is a reply? If I'm over my limit, it doesn't seem like it is worth ten cents to say, "You, too" or "Back atcha". But is it expected?

The bottom line is this -- if there is something social for me to feel awkward about, I will find a way to feel awkward about it. Someone needs to write an Emily Post-type book about life with email and IM and text messaging and Facebook and Twitter and whatnot, only with scripts instead of subtle instruction. I'll find the time to read it if I can ever figure out how to get off the phone.