Cell Phones: The Contrary View

“Give me your cell phone number, and I’ll call to learn where you are at 2:30.”

My friend was only seeking to arrange an impromptu business meeting, but he missed the point. When I’d told him I expected to be in transit this afternoon, I'd meant in transit. Translation: out of contact. You know -- like in the old days, the 1980s and ’90s.

I’m convinced cell phones are horrific distractions to drivers (who are fast zeroing in on your bumper before they suddenly, mercifully reorient themselves to where they are -- behind the steering wheel of a two-ton vehicle at 70mph). But safety aside, I dearly treasure my drive time. With dogs, teen-agers and the world’s most obnoxious eclectus parrot in our house, my drive time is approximately my only quiet time. The last thing I want in my car is a telephone.

But I didn’t chuckle. I didn’t smirk. I didn’t gloat over the unique mobile tranquility I enjoy and he forfeits. I just said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have a cell phone.”