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Arts on view
Cell phones? Poppycock!
by Patrick Rafferty 02
I think weve all had our fair share of this. Youre sitting in class, taking (or passing) notes diligently, paying close attention to the professor (or the Mets game on your headphones), and suddenly you hear it. Whether its Old McDonald or Joy to the World, you can hear some tiny classic tune being played by a ringing cell phone.
Needless to say, the professor stops class, walks over to the owner of said cell phone, asks them to stand up, and then socks them in the stomach. Thats what I would do anyway. Well, maybe only if I were tenured.
I hate cell phones. Its one thing to keep them in the glove compartment in case theres an emergency, but beyond that, no need. Are you that important? Moreover, do you think youre that important? If you were truly that important, you wouldnt have a cell phone, or a pager, or one of those ankle bracelets that they put on hawks to track them in the wild (those are all the rage now in Europe).
Think about the most important person you know. The President? The Pope? Bobcat Goldthwait? How many of them do you think have a cell phone? Exactly: none of them. They dont have time for a cell phone. The Prez is busy playing Parcheesi with Saddam in the Middle East, John Paul (Van Damme) is hangin with the fly honeys at the Vatican, Bobcat is probably making another talking horse movie. Theyve superceded the cell. You cant reach them, because theyre just that important. If you really were important, you wouldnt have a cell phone.
Im in constant fear of the day that cell phones become less expensive than land-line phones, because then Ill have to get one, if only to save money. Then again, perhaps the cheapness isnt worth the health risk. I hear they rot your brain. Not that I buy that for a second. I suppose next theyll be saying that asbestos might not be all that safe, or that you shouldnt buy real estate near Chernobyl, even if you get a really good deal on eBay.
Still, even without the brain rot, this cell phone thing has gotten out of hand. I do have a plan, however. We, the un-celled masses, can fight back. Its a simple plan, really. It doesnt even involve a Powerbook or Jeff Goldblum. Its called conditioning. Me and my buddy Pavlov came up with this one a few years back, only we did it with doggy treats and overweight children whose parents sent them to fat camp. But the basic principles still apply.
All you have to do is, whenever you see someone talking on a cell phone, walk up to them and calmly yet briskly slap the phone out of their hand. Thats it. Nothing rash, just slap the phone away and continue about your business as if nothing happened.
If enough people do this, those with cell phones will begin to realize whats happening, and eventually theyll stop using them. Or maybe their parents will send them to fat camp
I cant remember which. But either way, the cell phone problem is alleviated.
Time is of the essence here, because even I am having my faith tested. Since Im a dork at heart, its not so much having a window of communication open to me at all times that I find attractive. No, its more the beauty and splendor that goes along with a Motorola Timeport P8167 with a built-in microbrowser, voice-activated calling, and one-button voice-mail retrieval. Cell phones have gotten pretty shweet in the past few years, and between the price drops and my personal dork factor, I almost fell to the dark side. But then I found my savior.
Yes, L. Ron Hubbards Dianetics changed my life. No! No! Im kidding
its OK. My true savior is the Panasonic KX-TG2570S. Its a regular cordless phone, only not at all. Whereas most cordless phones nowadays operate at 900MHz, this phone is beyond megahertz: its 2.4 gigahertz. What does that mean, you ask? Well, even though I live in the back row of Scribner, I can make phone calls from Tower is what that means. Oh yeah.
Along with the range thing, its got a digital display, caller ID, a built-in answering machine, digital duplex speakerphone, creamy filling, and a mint candy shell. Plus, it counts as a serving of fruits and vegetables.
So whats the moral here? Cell phones are indeed lame, weve established that much. My phone is indeed rocking, weve gotten that too. What more is there to say? Well, in the words of L. Ron Hubbard: Humans didnt evolve from apes. What a bunch of poppycock.
Beginning in his freshman year, Pat Rafferty 02 was a regular humor columnist for the Skidmore News. This essay is an excerpt of one such column. All seventy are collected in The Life and Times of Pat Rafferty, available at the Skidmore Shop (518-580-5490 or www.skidmore.edu).