In a few minutes, we’re going out to eat with friends, to a local place that is known for great seafood. We’ll eat a lot, talk a lot, and, hopefully, ignore our cellphones.
But that last one – ignoring our cellphones -- is hard, isn’t it?
When did our phones become so essential? Maybe the better question is, why did they become so essential? It’s easy enough to make fun of that group of kids you see at Taco Bell with their noses glued to their phones, but I have to use every bit of willpower to not be just like them.
I’m at my worst when it’s just Robin and me. Say we’re going someplace. A song comes on the radio, maybe Rupert Holmes’ Escape – The Pina Colada Song. Robin, who is driving, might ask, “Did he ever sing anything else?” Boom! Just like that, I’m surfing the web to find out. Yes, by the way, just so you don’t have to look this up yourself, Rupert Holmes’ other Top 40 hits were Him and Answering Machine.
It never stops. We drive past a house with a For Sale sign out front and I’m looking up the details. We’re not even looking to buy a house. Earlier today, I thought of Gene Rayburn, the host of the 1960’s and ‘70’s TV show, Match Game. Is he still alive? Ten seconds later, I knew that he passed away in 1999 from congestive heart failure. R.I.P. Gene.
My smart phone has made me the world’s most inquisitive person. And also one of the rudest. I’ll try hard not to whip it out during dinner, but if our friends want to know how many calories there are in shrimp tacos or when the next high tide is in the Gulf of Mexico, I’ll have to find out for them. That’s my job.