PHONE PROGRESSION and PERSONAL EVOLUTION

 

The Israel I was born into had few personal/private phones. At that time, only physicians and government officials had a phone at home.

 

I was four when we got a line at our apartment, and we had to share it with a neighbor family. That meant any time the neighbors used the phone, ours would be dead. My father complained that their daughter was a teenager, and that meant (you guessed it) she was on the phone for hours. But who would this teenager be talking to when few families had phones?

 

Being the first two families in the building with phones also meant a line of neighbors at our door in the evenings asking to use our phone and each paying us the cost of a local call. It was a fixed equivalent of ten cents. In those days, one would never turn down a neighbor’s wish to talk on the phone to one of their relatives who were also lucky to have a phone. This meant we perennially had neighbors in our living room waiting for their turn. It was just fine.

 

About a year or two later, more lines popped up and we even got the neighbors with the teenage daughter off our shared line. The country was growing, and now most people had landlines into their homes.

Then came the modular phones, which meant a phone in every room. You’d think this provided privacy, but it didn’t because it was a single line and the dreaded click of a parent listening to my conversations (by then I was approaching the teen years) meant it was in fact less private.

 

Then came answering machines, and we didn’t run to answer the phone anymore because the machine would get it. Eventually the first mobile phones appeared, then the many lines to a single residence, and, you guessed it--- the smart phones. So smart, that they not only track us but listen to us.

 

By then I was living in the USA and our family was among the last to switch to smartphones. We were forced to when Verizon shut down the 3G network. I witnessed others who got a head start on these brilliant gizmos, carrying these little buggers from room to room, even sitting to dinner with their phone next to their plates.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to do or become. Me, a slave to my phone? No thanks.

 

We’re all caught up for the moment with phone conveniences. But I have learned a thing or two in the few years where others surfed smartly, and I stayed basic. I learned what I didn’t want and find that I now use my genius phone the way we used our first landline way back when. Ninety-five percent of the time it’s in a fixed place. It’s never “on me,” and definitely never ever at the dinner table. My phone is turned off every night. I disabled almost all notifications.  

 

Because I want to own a phone that doesn’t own me. I remember the days when life was richer because we were not awash in the phony (pun intended) notion that without a phone life’s bells cease ringing.

!!! ALERT !!!

 

At 3:08 am I was jolted awake by the screechiest loudest most gosh-darn scream from my cell phone.

AMBER ALERT!!! AMBER ALERT!!! AMBER ALERT!!!

As the blasting continued, I looked at the text. Something about a child abduction in a brown Buick. The only option to stop the shrieking phone was to “erase.” No saving for later. I tapped it ASAP.

And then I laid awake until morning, heart beating fast, wondering how many bay area residents could possibly spot a brown Buick from their beds. I was fuming.

This is not the first time this happened, and I always lament the uselessness of these alerts to all cell phones. When you have one in our state, you cannot opt out of these alerts on a basic (not smart) phone.

It has happened while driving, and nearly caused me to crash. There is no way I would stop on the highway to look at my phone. I don’t answer normal calls while driving, either.

It has happened at various times of the day, and I don’t see zooming cars from my kitchen, either.

It happened when I was getting an ultrasound by a surgeon (that’s another story) and she nearly dropped her handheld device.

And that screech: I didn’t know my phone is capable of such volume.

A well-intentioned setting that in fact is largely useless.

If you are not acquainted with the Amber alert system, see this.

I am all for radios broadcasting (without upping the volume manifold, as they do now) and especially for the electronic signs on highways.

But how can I possibly help from my bed?

As I lay awake, I realized I was not really angry at the alert. I was angry that people do horrible things that made others invent such a system. I was angry that countries invade other countries without provocation. I was angry that a few bad apples inflict so much harm on the peaceful and helpful majority.

I learned this morning the details of the abduction,  The face of an angelic toddler taken from home by what is reported to be a stranger with out-of-state license plates is haunting. 

I’m mad that such happens. Now that I’ve had coffee I’d like to go out and look for that brown Buick.

But as an aside, don’t shoot me, I’m also grumpy because I was awakened hours ago in a violent way and am lacking sleep. Some of the best intentions lead to grumpiness.  

P.S. 

Update: Thankfully it's been resolved. Waking up residents in five counties was not the reason the abductor was caught and the child rescued. I'd wake up every other night if it helped, but it hardly ever does for all the reasons I noted. I wonder how many car crashes and heart attacks these alerts have caused, and if anyone is counting.