A cellphone hang-up

Steven Hendlin

Don’t get me wrong. I’ll be the first to admit that cellphones are a

wonderful convenience. Beyond keeping us in touch in myriad important

and mundane ways, they can be a great distraction. You know what I’m

talking about, right?

Kids graduate from playing with Game Boys to playing games online

on their phone, peering into the miniature screen. They sit around,

downloading sports scores from the Internet, keeping themselves

insulated from the dreaded state of boredom.

Teenagers send instant text messages to one another, giving their

opinion of the latest movie or voting for the hottest teen singing

“idol” of their choice. They buy color-coordinated shells for their

phones to match the clothes they wear. Have you seen those adult

women who love to match their phone shell to their tennis shoes? Talk

about color-coordinated!

And let’s not forget the latest craze -- holding a walkie-talkie a

foot from your face and having an instantaneous conversation across

the country with one push of a button. Who wants to live without

these high-tech distractions, which keep everyone occupied when they

have nothing better to do?

I do, that’s who.

The price we pay for the great convenience of cellphones is noise

pollution. It’s not the kind of pollution we usually think of. It’s

not loud and overwhelming like the jets taking off from the airport.

No, it’s more insidious and chronic. We are held captive, forced to

listen to everyone’s personal business, which we can’t escape and

couldn’t care less about.

Like it or not, cellphones have turned what used to be private

conversations into everyday, public babble. When we used to hear

someone muttering to himself, we thought he was probably deranged.

Now we are conditioned to know he’s just talking on the phone.

Whether I want to, I’m forced to have to listen to you when you’re

in line ordering a bagel, when you’re trying on clothes in a stall at

Bloomingdales, sitting in a restaurant while I’m trying to have a

peaceful meal, or when I’m trying to concentrate on my golf swing on

the driving range when you happen to get a call from your boss. Let

me tell you, I don’t want to hear it!

And do these conspicuous cellphone-talkers care about showing

courtesy when they get these calls? Of course not. They receive a

call, and they are going to take it, whether it happens to interrupt

my concentration and my enjoyment of being in my own personal world.

Before cellphones, we could be in public but still be with our own

thoughts. I wasn’t forced to listen to endless blabbing about

absolutely nothing just because someone didn’t want to be forced to

confront his own thoughts and feelings of isolation. But now,

everything is different. Some people wear cellphones like a gun on

the hip, in a silly-looking little holster. And when it starts

ringing, they draw it as fast as Jesse James drew his six-shooter.

I’ve had patients who, while consulting me, jumped every time

their phone went off. They felt so dependent on their phones, they

refused to turn them off even during a psychotherapy session. At

least I’ve been able to convince them to turn down the volume so as

not to create a startled reaction every time it rings.

All I’m really saying is give peace a chance. See what happens

when you turn the thing off for a few hours. And please, when you get

the message, hang up the phone.

* STEVE HENDLIN is the author of “Overcoming the Inheritance

Taboo.” He is a clinical psychologist and a resident of Corona del

Mar.