Bill Kirby | Augusta Chronicle
"You can't fix stupid."
– Ron White
Bedtime was approaching at the end of a pretty good day and I was assessing its many achievements with smug satisfaction when reality remembered something I had forgotten.
I had not done the one thing my wife had asked me to do. I had not picked up some pain medicine at the store hours before.
She had even offered to write it down, when I asked if she wanted me to get her anything, but I had dismissed such a notion as unnecessary and unneeded.
"Steel trap," I had said pointing at my noggin.
Now I was thinking something else.
I knew she would take such an over-the-counter concoction before she went to sleep, and that time was approaching.
I grabbed my car keys, mumbled something about my mother wanting me to get her a new toothbrush, and hurried out the door, trying to make the drug store before it closed.
Two miles down the road I remembered something else I had forgotten. My cellphone.
It was charging back at the house.
I was overcome with the strangest feeling.
I was actually driving a vehicle without a connection to instant communication for the first time in a long while.
I felt vulnerable. I felt uncertain.
I felt odd.
I have driven across the country without a phone in my car. I have driven in New York and California and Washington, D.C., without a phone in my car.
I have chauffeured good girls through bad parts of town without a phone in my car.
But that was then, and this was now, and now, I didn't have it.
I quickly concluded that the perpetual connection of cellular telephones is the biggest change in our lifetimes.
That's because it's more than a telephone. It is a security device, a miniature computer, a weather radar system, a direction finder, even a mini-car radio.
It has changed expectations and it has changed behaviors.
What would I do if I had an accident? I haven't seen a pay phone in years and have no idea where I could find one. Even if I did, I don't have any change. Do pay phones take debit cards?
I passed the street that led to a nearby high school and wondered what I would do if a teen texter accidently swerved into my lane and hit me. Would I have to borrow his or her cell to call my wife or the police? Or both?
I tried to remember what I did the last time I drove someplace without my cell phone. I couldn't.
How many decades since my first "bag phone" joined me as a co-pilot?
I started to turn around and return for my phone, but I was afraid the store would close. I didn't know its hours … and I couldn't ask my smart phone what they were.
So I stayed on course, driving as alertly and precisely as a 16-year-old seated beside a license examiner.
The store loomed ahead. I rushed inside, I found the medicine and even picked up a toothbrush to complete my cover story.
I drove home, entered the house smoothly and slipped the small box on the top of the kitchen counter.
Then I acted like all was well, and it was, too.
My phone was on the counter fully charged. Soon it was back in my pocket.
Like they say: Don't leave home without it.
The Link LonkMarch 06, 2021 at 09:34PM
https://www.augustachronicle.com/story/news/2021/03/06/kirby-forget-your-phone-remember-its-value/6909575002/
Kirby: How important are cell phones? Forget about it - The Augusta Chronicle
https://news.google.com/search?q=forget&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US:en
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