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PITTSBURG —
As some of you already know, I recently gave in and got my first mobile phone – aptly called a TracFone as I bought it last spring specifically to keep track of mom’s bathroom remodeling over in the Republic of Frontenac and happenings with my two sons near and far.
So far I’ve been able to avoid turning into a cell phone zombie. You know, a soulless body unaware of anyone else’s presence — or its surroundings — as it hurries past, blathering loudly about the upcoming Super Bowl party. Or shuffles along like an automaton, head bent over a smartphone, text messaging or tweeting their latest cogent thought.
One of the people I talked to about this — those of us who are devoted to modern life’s high-tech challenges are likely to be sharing impressions around this or that troubling technological behavior late on a Sunday morning while others are discussing the fiscal cliff or Beyonce’s Inauguration lip syncing controversy — say that the government’s invasion of our computer and phone privacy are cause for greater alarm than people’s mobile phone peccadilloes, but I consider that hair splitting.
What I’ve discovered mostly about mobile phones is, like other things in life, they are something of a paradox. Which is to say, the very features that make them helpful and beneficial can, at any given moment, render them detrimental.
The main one being that a person is reachable anywhere and anytime. This comes in handy, I’ve found, when caravanning by car with students to the Kansas City airport — or following a loved one’s progress in the hospital. But when being interrupted in the middle of an intimate conversation, or randomly beeped that a text message has arrived, it’s annoying.
The obvious answer is to turn the little bugger off — or leave it home.
It’s become commonplace to hear phones in meetings (mostly on vibrate rather than turned completely off) announce themselves with a resonant ‘OOMMMM” on tabletops around the room. After the fifth time it happened in a meeting at PSU a while back, I commented, with my best “Buddhist smile,” that it sounded as if monks were randomly chanting to us.
Speaking of Buddhist monks, I recall that when Tibetan Buddhist monks were at PSU a few years back performing their healing mandala ritual, I saw a couple of the young ones talking on cell phones and texting in between turns creating the sacred sand painting.
As some of you already know, I recently gave in and got my first mobile phone – aptly called a TracFone as I bought it last spring specifically to keep track of mom’s bathroom remodeling over in the Republic of Frontenac and happenings with my two sons near and far.
So far I’ve been able to avoid turning into a cell phone zombie. You know, a soulless body unaware of anyone else’s presence — or its surroundings — as it hurries past, blathering loudly about the upcoming Super Bowl party. Or shuffles along like an automaton, head bent over a smartphone, text messaging or tweeting their latest cogent thought.
One of the people I talked to about this — those of us who are devoted to modern life’s high-tech challenges are likely to be sharing impressions around this or that troubling technological behavior late on a Sunday morning while others are discussing the fiscal cliff or Beyonce’s Inauguration lip syncing controversy — say that the government’s invasion of our computer and phone privacy are cause for greater alarm than people’s mobile phone peccadilloes, but I consider that hair splitting.
What I’ve discovered mostly about mobile phones is, like other things in life, they are something of a paradox. Which is to say, the very features that make them helpful and beneficial can, at any given moment, render them detrimental.
The main one being that a person is reachable anywhere and anytime. This comes in handy, I’ve found, when caravanning by car with students to the Kansas City airport — or following a loved one’s progress in the hospital. But when being interrupted in the middle of an intimate conversation, or randomly beeped that a text message has arrived, it’s annoying.
The obvious answer is to turn the little bugger off — or leave it home.
It’s become commonplace to hear phones in meetings (mostly on vibrate rather than turned completely off) announce themselves with a resonant ‘OOMMMM” on tabletops around the room. After the fifth time it happened in a meeting at PSU a while back, I commented, with my best “Buddhist smile,” that it sounded as if monks were randomly chanting to us.
Speaking of Buddhist monks, I recall that when Tibetan Buddhist monks were at PSU a few years back performing their healing mandala ritual, I saw a couple of the young ones talking on cell phones and texting in between turns creating the sacred sand painting.
A week so after my chanting monks observation in the meeting at PSU I was at a gathering with Gorillas In Your Midst, the student group I advise, when my TracFone began to ring loudly. With my best “egg on my face” smile I checked the number. Seeing it was Cathy Pentola, our administrative assistant, I picked up.
“I’m in a meeting. I call you back,” I said.
“Better not wait,” she replied. “One of you neighbors just called to say there’s water spewing out the front of your house.”
So being guilty of the same cell phone breach of etiquette that peeves me during meetings helped me in a crisis. Paradox indeed.
Still, some days I can’t help but take the view that cell phones exist to give me unending opportunities to work on my egocentricity as I struggle to be non-judgmental towards those don’t turn them off WHEN I WANT THEM TO! — or use them for what I consider to be inane activities.
So thank you, you talking, tweeting, texting, instagramming people who fool around on your phone whenever you have a spare moment, whine for the whole world to hear in public bathrooms, lift your phone high to take crappy photos at concerts, let your phone ring and send text messages during movies, transmit salacious pictures when inebriated, share embarrassing videos of your friends without their permission and post tweet tantrums for all the world to see while walking mindlessly across busy intersections. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to attain ever-higher levels of spiritual growth.
And what, you may ask, if I should make it to heaven and find Jesus showing Moses the latest amazing cell phone app he’s discovered — or asking the apostles to listen to a cool ring tone?
I’ll just have deal with that problem when I get there.
J.T. Knoll is a writer, speaker and prevention and wellness coordinator at Pittsburg State University. He also operates Knoll Training & Consulting in Pittsburg. He can be reached at 231-0499 or jtknoll@swbell.net
