A dog follower strolled behind his companion, one hand on the leash and the other on his cellphone. His head was bent toward the device, and he seemed oblivious to the early morning sunshine that lit his hair and shoulders. The man was not the first person to pass my window with a leash in one hand and a phone in the other. I see many people each day, taking their phones outside for a stroll. We live in a cellphone age.
When I am sitting at the bar with my friend and co-ciderator, Paula Nicewanger, I will occasionally interrupt our discourse to announce that, “We have the ability to instantly get that information right here in my pocket!” With a dramatic flourish, I will place my cellphone on the counter. But I have also nudged her in a conspiratorial way and pointed to couples sitting side-by-side at the bar, with each person bent over a cell phone, seemingly ignoring the other. And I see dog-walking couples shuffling along together, two dogs leashed to two arms, and two faces bent toward two phones.
I got my first cellphone sometime in the early 1990s. A friend gave me her old phone and included me on her plan. I immediately ran up so many calls that she kicked me off the plan. That was before the advent of “unlimited calls and texts.” My first two grandchildren got cellphones at what I thought was an early age. My daughter gave my grandson Xavion a phone when he was about 11 years old. (He is now bearing down on 19.) Lisa made her decision when she realized that when her children were going to be at sleepovers and parties, the homes they stayed in may not have a “house phone,” and the kids would not be able to call home. Xavion’s sister, Imani, got her cellphone when she was about 10. Both of my grandbeauties had my number programmed into their phones. I was an acceptable contact, and I loved to hear them answer, “Hi, Cool Papa!” The last time that I had a house phone was 2011, when I still had dial-up internet services, and a machine that recorded messages left for me. But the Age of Aquarius has dawned, and we now have our lives invested in phones that fit in our pockets and bags.
My youngest granddaughter was trolling the video app YouTube Kids on my iPad when I received a text. The message appeared simultaneously on the iPad and my cellphone. Myah, who is soon to be a five-year-old, was sitting next to me when the interruption of her program occurred. She promptly waved me away, telling me to check the message on my phone. She knows that this is possible, as well as how to activate the voice-to-text function on my phone when she wants me to text her mother. I gave her my circa 1990 Nokia cellphone so that we could each pretend to speak to each other, but she has a clear understanding of which cellphone is real, and which is “betend.” When she saw my personal emoji — “a digital image or icon used to express an idea (or) emotion” — she wanted me to make one of her. I attach her emoji to texts that she sends to her mother from my phone.
When Myah wants to “watch the iPad,” I have her read two books with me first. She has recently asked if she can watch videos on my phone, but I am holding the line. I tell her “no,” but the cellphone age is here, especially for the young.
cjon3acd@att.net