I Love My Cellphone, But Now It's Gone Too Far

Yesterday I accidentally left my cellphone at home...Aaarrrggghhh!!!! I was rushing, running late for work and that's how it all started.  I probably would have realized earlier that I didn't have my phone, but I didn't make or receive any calls on my way to work. I just assumed I had my phone because I adhere to a routine in getting ready for work. I was sure that I had unplugged my phone, picked up my glasses and placed them both in my bag. Sure of it.  I was just as sure that I had plugged my phone into my car's USB.

Arriving at the parking lot, I quickly maneuver into a spot and rush inside.  I was sure that I unplugged my phone from the USB and put it in my bag.  I made it to work on time, so I settled in and went into my bag to get my glasses. "That's weird," I thought to myself, "my glasses aren't in my
bag." After searching three or four times more and not finding them, I just accepted the fact that I wouldn't be able to see clearly, that I wouldn't be able to make out some words or numbers, and if I wasn't careful, I could possibly get injured. I also wouldn't be able to recognize co-workers at a distance. But that was okay, I would just speak to everyone, whether I knew them or not. Things were going to be uncomfortable, and could prove costly or injurious, but I would have to make do.

After a while, I was ready to listen to music from my incredibly awesome playlists.  I went into my bag, retrieved the smaller bag that I keep my ear buds in and looked for my phone. "Hmmm, I'm going to have to clean out this bag," I thought.  So I looked again.  No phone.  Suddenly, I was breathing faster.  I looked three or four more times.  "Oh no, please...no...don't even think that way, just look again, take everything out of the bag," I said to myself.  My phone wasn't there.  Panic had officially set in.  I started working, but I couldn't focus.  The same words kept rolling over in my mind,  "Where is my phone?" "Where is my phone?" "WHERE IS MY PHONE?"

At the first opportunity, I went back to my car. I looked everywhere, under the seat, on the side of the seats, in compartments that I never use. And then I asked myself, "Could it be possible I left it at home?"  I knew the answer, and it was horrible.  My phone was at home, 60 miles away...without me.

At work, I was quiet. I was mourning the separation of me and my phone.  In need of comfort, I told a couple of co-workers that I'd left my phone at home.  "Oh wow, I know how you feel" said one. "I've done that, and I hate when that happens, I haaaate it," said the other. They understood my grief.  Later, my buddy Ed came over. "Hey, I heard you left your phone," he said.  "You can use mine if want to call home." I appreciated this gesture because I always call home to check up on things. At least I'd still be able to do that. As Ed was handing me his phone, I started thinking about the number I was about to dial..my home number, and all I could do was draw a blank.  What is my home number?  Still extending his hand with the phone, Ed asked, "Do you want to call later?" I declined and told him that I just realized that I don't know my home number.

This got me to thinking, "If I don't know my own home number, what other numbers don't I know? It took just a few seconds to realize that the better question was "What numbers do I know?"  And then it hit me, I only know four numbers by heart. Just four--my cell number, my husband's cell number, my mother's number (sorry dad) and 911.  When did this happen?  I remember when I had at least 20 telephone numbers committed to memory. I could readily dial the numbers of several friends, my parents, my siblings and an assortment of institutions (schools, school bus companies, The Chicago Sun-Times).  Heck, I use to be able to call and order my favorite pizza in a flash, without looking up the number in the yellow pages.

I know what happened.  It's the devious work of that beautiful piece of technology that I love so much.  It's the cellphone, the smartphone to be specific. Revered for its amazing capabilities, it's at once a computer, a still camera, an audio recording device, a video camera, an mp3 player and a high-tech phone book, to name but a few of its many features.  The modern telephone, with it's ability to store numbers, allow users to push a single digit or simply speak the name of anyone you wish to call, has effectively, though subtley, erased from our memories the telephone numbers that were once so important they were seared into our brains. Our cellphones have seduced us by seeming to make life a little less complicated. I mean, who carries a personal telephone book anymore? When's the last time you thumbed through a Rolodex?  Or called Information? Does 411 even exist anymore?

Oh, so you think I'm over-reacting do you?  Then list all of the telephone numbers that you have committed to memory.  Just how many do you know?  You're a smart person, so what did you come up with?

Don't get me wrong, I still love my cellphone. But now that I know about it's other ability, I'm going to do myself a favor. I'm going to memorize my home number.  And while I'm at it, it may not be a bad idea to start printing some of those pictures.