Turn Up The Volume

“You could start,” my friends tell me, “by answering your phone.” This, unfortunately for them, is met with my usual tepid silence. It is not that I am taking time to ponder a meaningful answer. It is more that I don’t have anything to say.

My friends, you see, are not very fond of my cell phone. The problem, they tell me, the real crux of their angst, is that I am not using my cell phone—like the rest of the world does—to communicate with them on a regular basis.

I am not, as it turns out, doing what they do in Japan, which is write entire novels using their thumbs. Nor am I downloading ring tones that get me into embarrassing situations when the phone rings. I am, essentially, a cell phone neophyte.

So I come to find out what they mean by “regular basis.” They mean daily. But judging by their attempts to communicate with me, I would have to argue that “regular basis” really means hourly. Either way, I apparently do not communicate with them on a regular basis, and this is causing them angst.

Communication, they said, could start out slow and work its way up to a regular basis. I could start by simply answering my phone when they call. This, much to their chagrin, makes me laugh because I tell them I would need to start with something more simple than that. I would need, I say slowly and clearly, to start by turning the volume on.

This, unfortunately, is not what they were expecting. What they were expecting, I gather, was more like: “Got it! No problem! I’ll answer every time you call. I really do want to be cellularly hip.” Thus I was not surprised when my comment was followed by an awkward silence, a tilting of the head, and the scrunching of eyebrows.

My cell phone, I explain, is not a constant portal into my world. And I will not answer my phone if I’m engaged in any of the following: sleeping, going to the bathroom, showering, having sex, exercising, relaxing or eating. The list is longer, actually, but those are the big ones, and I’m hoping it’s enough for them to get the point.

Unfortunately, they do not get the point. So I try to be more crystal clear and explain that I don’t use my cell phone for any of the following: taking pictures, listening to music, twittering, surfing, watching videos, managing my life, organizing my social calendar, or downloading ring tones. Again, the list is longer, but at this point I don’t think a longer list will help clarify the point.

You see, I tell them, my cell phone is a tool, and I use it to make phone calls. It’s my one-way portal into the other world. The world that requires I use a phone to call in sick for work, order pizza, reserve quarter barrels of my delicious Pilsner, and refill prescriptions for happy pills. This list, you might have realized, is slightly longer, but hopefully you get my point.

But there is something I don’t tell my friends. I don’t tell them that I am actually trying to communicate on a regular basis. I read their text messages, I look at their photos. Sometimes I even chuckle because something they said is funny. I just don’t typically have a response.

All of this, I know, is terribly analog of me. It also tends to enforce the notion that I’m socially inept. There are other things to add to this list, but I’ll stop here.