I Want a Divorce

from my cell phone.

Yes, O Best Beloved, the thrill is gone!

I am tired of alarming texts warning of the dire consequences of exceeding the shared data plan, sick of unsubscribing from unwanted emails, fed up with apps that constantly scream to be updated.  And quite  done with all the chargers, both A/C and D/C, that either cannot be found or work only intermittently.

I want out of this God-forsaken union, but I hadn't really seriously formulated that thought until the last month, when...

I began having, on an almost daily basis, random images of a 1970s olive green, rotary wall phone pop into my technology-tired brain.  It's not just floating in space, though.  In my mind's eye, I see it securely attached to the wall in my kitchen in the here and now.  I long for this phone like I do for a decadent slice of cheesecake after an especially fine meal.  It is a phone from my childhood.

I remember fondly the way it felt to insert my index finger into the rotary dial and turn and release it. I remember the soothing sound of it whirring back to its starting place, and I remember the luxurious leisure of having seconds elapse before I could dial the next digit in the phone number.

But can we really turn back the clock?  Or the rotary dial for that matter?  Can we ditch our iPhones and still function with the people who keep and use theirs?  I've been pondering this, and I am sure we can.  The question is, will the benefits of losing the mini 'puter outweigh the negatives? Of this I am not yet decided, because for one, pay phones used to be widely available.  If you had need  of one because, say, you had a flat tire on your way to the grocery store, there was one at every gas station and corner store.

Now I see none.

In those carefree days of the public pay phone, I would blithely leap into my car and motor away, feeling confident and complete.  To the grocery store and beyond!  With. No. Phone.

Now, if I forget it, I often turn around.  And I die a little inside.

So I daydream of the old green wall phone and about how I might leave my iPhone balanced precariously on the right front fender of my car sometime soon.

The taste of freedom is sweet on my tongue.