Tethered

So…funny thing happened to me on the way to work….

I realized that I had left my phone at home.

It was trippy. I swear I went through the phases of grief and loss. Confusion-…’wait…what?..’  Denial…’nah…it’s got to be in my bag’.  Anger…’shit! I can’t believe I left it at home.’  Sadness…’damn..how will I send goofy ‘happy friday’ texts?’ And finally (after checking Find My iPhone), acceptance–‘yup. There is it is on the map. At my house.’

Fuuuuuuuuudge.

Only, much like Ralphie, I didn’t say ‘fudge.’

I said fuck.

Sometimes I say it because it’s quite possibly the perfect word for many situations. But there are comedians who have waxed poetic on that topic in a far more humorous manner than me, so  I’ll leave that sidebar alone.

Speaking of sidebar….PetShop Boys are on Pandora….and I have to say…I really love his voice. A line somewhere between slower Frankie Goes to Hollywood meets Yaz meets early Depeche Mode.

Where was I? Oh yes…the phone.

So…as I’m sitting at work checking Find My iPhone every 7 minutes (because, let’s face it. I’m something of a paranoid after the whole iPad in the seat pocket bit. And part of me thought my phone was in my coat pocket and fell out getting in to my car this morning.  Even though my neighbors checked.)…I came to the realization that we as a society (and specifically me) have come to be really attached to that little box.  I could count on one hand the actual number of phone calls I make in a week.   But I text out the ass on that thing.  And browse weather. And news. And FaceSpace. And Ruzzle.

It’s the pocket size idiot box. And pretty much everyone I talked to gave me that same look of sympathy….Oh…you forgot your phone? I’m so sorry for your loss.


Which leads me to wonder….are we so tethered to that electronic teat as a society that we have forgotten what it means to wait for things? What’s that movie called? I don’t know, I’ll have to wait until I get home to look it up–no you won’t…check your phone. Don’t know the song? Shazam that shit.

I can honestly remember having to listen to the radio…YES RADIO….for DAYS sometimes for them to play a new song again and hope I caught it in time to hear the DJ announce the name of the song or even the artist. Hell, if I knew the artist I could walk down to the record store in the mall and look for LPs by that artist.

We have forgotten the joy of waiting. That delicious longing that builds up into a nice little reward when you finally make it through that wait.

I’m not gonna go all Ted Kaczynski on it or anything, but I can definitely see the need to unplug. I don’t have a cabin in the woods, but I have an acre of land in KY that’s mine all mine. And I’m going to put some kind of dwelling on there.

And I’m going to go there to write.

Often.

As Often as I can.

I will probably have a MacBook with me, but there’s also going to be a type-writer there. Either an old Royal or  IBM Selectric. We’ll see what mood strikes me when I’m type-writer shopping.

Cell reception is ridiculously spotty down there, too. And I think that’s a very good thing. There are times I don’t want to be reachable.

I’m heading out to NY again tomorrow. So, I took off from work a little early today. Came home and verified what I already knew. The phone was here.  Picked it up gingerly and sent a few texts of success out to some friends concerned for my well being.

Life is good.

But honestly….it was pretty damn good this morning when I didn’t have my phone, too.

I may have to ‘forget’ it more often.

Now please put your seats, tray tables, and stewardesses in their full upright position as we prepare to land.

Have an awesomesauce day/evening/weekend my friends!!
-A.T.