Why does EVERYONE love telephones except me?

I had my love affair with the telephone when I was in junior high in the latter half of the 1970s. You paid by the phone jack then, and our house had two: one in the kitchen on the wall with a corkscrew plastic cord that stretched to the floor, and one in the master bedroom sitting on a bedside table. We felt fortunate to have push buttons instead of dials, and life was good.

My best friend, Shawna, and I would talk, giggle, and sing for hours on the telephone, though our homes were only about a half mile apart down the street and across a school yard. I distinctly remember singing a Campbells soup commercial over the telephone: "How do you handle a hungry man? The man handler's!" We were the 'man handlers,' though neither of us had ever had a boyfriend. Oh, we laughed and laughed.

Phones were fun then and not complicated. If you were away from home and needed to call someone, you had to find a payphone and insert a dime for local calls, but that was no problem because there were payphones on every street corner and inside most businesses. Making a call from a payphone was a rare event. Almost everything could wait to be communicated until we were home.

I remember seeing my first cell phone -- a literal brick in size and weight attached to a self-important, technologically advanced co-worker's hip so that he could be reached anywhere in the event of an 'emergency.' (We were librarians, and I don't recall any serious library emergencies, but I guess we could have had one.) The first car phone I ever saw was in a BMW on 700 East in Salt Lake City. You could tell that the car had a phone because it had a little stinger above the back window. I was mildly impressed by the novelty of it.

But this phone thing has gotten out of control. Who really needs to be in constant communication, as though they or their potential callers are on life support of some kind?

I realized the phone thing had gone too far in the freezer section of my local grocery store where a man was talking in a loud voice (apparently to himself) about which vegetables to buy. The debate was getting kind of heated when I realized he was wearing a device of some kind above his ear and actually communicating with someone who was not in the store. What would have happened if he had brought home corn instead of peas, or both corn and peas? He was not authorized to make such decisions without placing a phone call.

I may be the only adult I know who does not want and does not have a data plan on a smart phone. The four other adults in my own household have the latest technology and wouldn't want to be without it, but for me the added convenience of having GPS and a digital phone book in my purse pocket holds absolutely no appeal. I have never used an app and do not want to. Something must be terribly wrong with me.

We pay handsomely each month for all of this instantaneous entertainment and information.  There's never a dull moment when you can watch a movie or television or shop or read a book in the palm of your hand.

Maybe I've stumbled onto something here. I like having dull moments to think my own thoughts. I like the fact that if I want diversion, I have to go out of my way for it.

My co-worker with the prototype enormous cell phone all those years ago called it his 'electronic leash,' and that is how I see all of them. What marketing genius convinced civilized people everywhere that they must invest in high tech tech status symbol phones, then pay monthly for the privilege of using them?

In the interest of full disclosure, and since payphones have all but disappeared, I do keep a very simple cell phone in my purse in case of emergencies (my own or others'). A cell phone is a necessary evil.

From Forbes: 13 Things Mentally Tough People Do Not Do

13 Things Mentally Tough People Do Not Do

1. They do not waste time feeling sorry for themselves.
2. They do not give away their power (by letting others make them feel offended, inferior, or bad about themselves.)
3. They do not waste energy on things they can’t control (like bad traffic, lost luggage, or other people.)
4. They do not take take primary responsibility for the happiness of others. (Everyone is responsible for their own happiness, and if you let others throw that off on you, you will be miserable.)
5. They do not fear taking calculated risks.
6. They do not dwell on the past.
7. They do not make the same mistakes over and over again.
8. They do not resent other people’s success, even people who do not deserve it.
9. They do not give up after failure.
10. They do not fear time alone.
11. They do not think that the world owes them anything.
12. They do not expect immediate results.
13. They do not fear change, but they do fear being complacent or stagnant.

– Cheryl Connor, Forbes, 11/18/2014  (quoted on the Rush Limbaugh radio show)

It's Never Too Late to Become a Mature Adult

Here I am, 49 years old and finally seeing myself as an adult, except when I'm not.

I do not consider myself a "Mature Adult"...
...when I stay up much later than I should
...when I eat all of the foods I shouldn't eat
...when I don't eat any of the foods I should eat

...when I sleep in
...when I avoid all forms of exercise
...when I don't wear a proper coat in bad weather
...when I procrastinate
...when I buy something with a credit card
...when I don't take the time to make my bed, or put my clothes away, or clean up immediately after dinner

 I do all of the above occasionally -- some regularly. 

I am also suspicious of my claims to adulthood when I laugh at Will Farrell commercials, when I delight in simplistic works of 'art,' and when I shy away from social situations and teacher confrontations.

I think for me the key questions are:
1. Can others depend upon me? and
2. Can I depend upon myself?

 
The answer to the first question is almost always YES. As a child I learned to be hyper responsible, because for a variety of reasons I had to be. When I became a wife and mother, that sense of responsibility quadrupled. 

The answer to the second question is not as clear-cut, because I do not take care of myself. I cannot depend upon myself as much as others can depend upon me. 

A few days ago I woke up with a thought which became the title of this blog post: "It's never too late to become a mature adult." I don't want to be a totally mature, stodgy adult -- I just want to be able to depend upon myself to make good choices for my present and future health and happiness. 

I think I am finally old enough (wise enough) to do that.