Train travel. I love it. The off-peak hours, of course. The lulling sway of the near-empty compartment as New England greenery serenely slips past. Sweet bastion of solitude. Hallway time for me to idly consider the world I have just left or the world I am heading toward. Or to forget both worlds for a bit. Just relax and breathe. Sometimes I even curl up on the empty seat and use a scrunched up sweater as pillow for a nap.
Except for today.
CUZ LITTLE MISS SELF-IMPORTANT THERE SEVERAL SEATS DOWN, THE ONE WITH THE BLONDE PONYTAIL AND THE HANDY, DANDY LITTLE CELL PHONE MUST CONTINUOUSLY HARASS HER SECRETARY IN NEW YORK CITY WHILE ON THIS TRAIN TO CONNECTICUT ABOUT HER URGENT DOCUMENTS AND BY THE WAY, LINDA, THERE WILL BE FAXING AND EMAILING LATER AND SHE DID TELL YOU THESE DEADLINES DURING A PREVIOUS CALL (several times she told you, you poor Linda, along with the rest of us) AND BLAH, BLAH, BLAH…… Aghhhhhhh.
All it takes is one. Just one exhibitionist with a cell phone to rape the social quiet. I find second hand phone blather a lot more offensive than I ever regarded second hand cigarette smoke. Same principle, though. I pray the backlash for this social infraction will begin a hell of a lot sooner. Let’s stomp out bad cell phone etiquette. PLEASE!
Abraham Lincoln said, “Tis better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.” How can we let the narcissists know they are annoying not impressing us, their captive audiences?
I’m not speaking of the majority of cell phone users. There is a big difference in discreetly conveying person-to-person information and gratuitously entertaining the troops. If only these oh-so-convenient devices came with an automatic sense of responsibility.
All it takes is one grandiose knothead to break into new, inappropriate frontiers for discordant phone discourse. To clear out opportunities for relatively serene silence in public places for the rest of us. To leave one at least a LITTLE room for production of a private thought. I call it “consciousness razing”. Other people’s, that is.
In a Chinese restaurant recently there sat several tables away a young man who made several outgoing calls during the meal. I marveled at the patience of his male dinner companion. During the final call he reported on a hot movie he had just enjoyed. A movie I intended to see. As he ventured nearer to disclosing the ending, I considered winging him with the balance of my egg roll.
One of the most dismaying chatterings I've been privy to was walking along next to a woman sharing the details of her upcoming breast enhancement surgery, a "self" birthday gift.
One of the perks of jury duty for me is blessed reading time during those long waiting periods. This last time I had jury duty, I sat between two chronic cell phone users. In a Barnes & Nobel ladies room just the other day I was stunned by the enthusiastic inquiry emanating from the next stall, “So, how’s it going?” I, flustered, actually began to query back, thinking it was aimed at me. Is there no escape?
Alas, consider Linda, the poor secretary I have been feeling sorry for for some time, a sentiment probably shared by others on this train. Ah, for the days that when a boss left for the day, he or she REALLY left for the day. As for this boss, well, my mother used to refer to a kind of person in love with his or her own voice.
My malice toward the attractive but officious young woman did not begin to blossom until fifteen or twenty minutes into the declarations and demands with no apparent end in sight. Okay, take care of business, no problem. But will you … can you, even … bring the volume down a notch on those things? Why do they lack a mouthpiece? Wouldn’t it give people more security not to raise their voices those extra annoying decibels? It seems a throwback to the olden days when the early telephone users unnecessarily shouted.
Maybe all of us upon getting one of these handy little devices goes through a sophomoric stage with the new toy of flaunting and inflicting his or her business, from mundane to intimate, dramatically and inescapably onto others. To hell with anyone within earshot.
When cell phones first began surfacing on New York City streets, I’d get whammied with confusion. My keen peripheral vision and hearing (important to New Yorkers) would suddenly discern a nearby solitary individual in animated conversation. I would glance over warily, expecting to see some unfortunate, a bedraggled paranoid schizophrenic perhaps. Instead I’d behold a well-heeled corporate type, a mover and a shaker, moving and shaking apparently while in pedestrian transit.
Even more confusing were those guys with the Brittany Spears’ hookups, no hands required.
While on a bus traveling through Central Park on a weekday Fall morning, I was dismayed at the number of business-suited New Yorkers fast-walking to work amidst the brilliant foliage with cell phones pressed to their ears, mouths going a mile a minute. How could they begin to appreciate Nature’s bounty this way? Can it really be multi-tasked? I always thought “keeping your head where your feet are” was a fine motto.
Maybe this was a healthy behavior and I was not giving credit where credit was due, but it struck me as a perfect subject maybe for a New Yorker cover cartoon.
Speaking of cartoons, I remember one of a hapless Ziggy being rained upon by little black rotary phones falling out of the sky. The caption read, “Telephoney enough for you?” Now doesn’t that joke ring even truer today? Maybe not ring. Maybe bleep, or play a compelling, clever little tune?
While living in New York City for a considerable while I have noted a peculiar phenomenon. When two people (myself no exception) who are even remotely acquainted happen upon each other on a NY City sidewalk, they go into a kind of opera mode. That is, their boisterous faux-bosom buddy reunion is a performance to behold, dominating the sidewalk area. Step around, please. Fate’s synchronicity has triggered this social celebration and given them claim to the sidewalk. Now one does not even have to await such a miraculous and random intersecting. One can turn in a one-person performance simply by dialing up anyone – one can even let loose into a phone machine and posture all one wants.
I particularly cringe at customers, not missing a beat of their phone conversations, who thrust their money across store counters at clerks, not even offering them eye contact. R-U-D-E. Though, in a turn about situation recently at a pet store, I was nonplussed to have the cashier flirting away on a phone as she rang up my items. When I asked her to desist until I had paid, she did so though began flinging my purchases into the bag.
Before the New York car law forbidding hand held cell phones, cab drivers seemed relatively civil in terminating their cell phone conversations when I asked, though I am sure I have unknowingly been exposed to several muttered foreign words for “bitch”.
It is time to confess, though, the positive side. Even confess my moments of jealousy and wonder toward certain cell phone users. These occur when I see the miraculous transformation of an impassive, self-protective New York City dog-face into a vital, glowing, human one upon hearing one word of a cherished voice. The mask melts, the eyes crinkle and glitter with warmth, intelligence and wit. In one instant a cold, detached stranger metamorphoses into a person it would seem a privilege and joy to know. It is actually enlivening to watch such a spectacle. It sends a newer, healthier vibration out into this town without pity, this “watch your back” universe.
As for the more abrasive cell phone users, I wonder if there is not some karmic come-uppance for all the years we hungry writers slyly eavesdropped on humanity. As my brother often quoted, “New York is the biggest free show in the world.” Now the joke is on us. Unavoidable streams of conversation pour forth relentlessly, like from a faucet that has broken while at full throttle. And like with James Stewart in "Rear Window", spying can have its boomerang effects.
My most serious cell phone ambush was in a Starbuck’s recently one weekday mid-morning. With my journal before me I had just stricken my poor chest and that third eye place on my forehead by sipping too much of a delicious frozen berry drink. As I slowly recovered, I noted the buzzing of the blenders, the squirting of the whipped cream containers and the hissing of the cappuccino machines. Starbuck’s white noise. Suddenly, the voice of an angry, middle-aged man at the next table rang out.
“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!!!”
He sprang to his feet.
A string of stinging expletives followed while his rage continued to escalate. I sensed my shoulders stiffening and climbing toward my earlobes. Even though the tirade was not directed at me, I felt like the proverbial deer in ricocheting headlights. I sat, stock still, willing him to finish the call. It wasn’t pretty and my heart hammered in my chest. At long last he stopped with some kind of ultimatum, making an angry huffing sound.
I had managed to exhale when a hand suddenly touched one of my stiff shoulders.
It had to be his! My knees literally flew up into the air striking the table, and spilling the crimson slush all over the table top and onto my lap. The cold stung my thighs and I leapt up.
Shocked, I looked up into a surprisingly kind, apologetic and handsome face. His voice deep and soothing, the words soft, “I just wanted to apologize. My call obviously disturbed you.” He sounded so polite. I was hurriedly sopping up the red slush into its plastic cup with an already saturated napkin. He rushed to fetch more napkins. I noted how my finger tips had begun to tingle from the frozen particles.
“Let me buy you another one of those,” he offered.
I smiled politely at Dr. Jekyll, shoving my notebook and pens into my bag. “No thanks. They give me headaches,” I explained stupidly. And I was out the door.
I was grateful he had apologized. So maybe he wasn’t quite the “get-the-net” whacko psycho I had assumed while listening. But I was not inclined to stay and make a deeper assessment. Sticky-fingered, with huge maroon stains growing on both of my light blue pant legs, I realized I should have visited the lavatory to wash up. But I wanted to get away from someone who had exploded with such violence. I had to marvel at such a quick recovery from his rage.
I stood a second on the busy midtown street, my heart still thumping away. I walked north and found myself gazing up at the beautiful spires of St. Patrick’s cathedral. A good place to seek temporary emotional sanctuary I decided. Though I know that St. Pat’s is the Grand Central of churches in terms of tourists, it was an off-peak hour, so to speak. Even if it were crowded, I smiled triumphantly, this was one frontier the cell phone users hadn’t violated. Blessed peace and privacy.
I bounded up the steps and hauled open the beautiful, heavy brass door and walked in. There it was before me. In all its magnificent, Gothic, cavernous glory. I slipped into a pew near the back and sat for a while. It was not crowded. The bright stained glass windows were cheering, the statues benign. My agitation over the disturbing phone call dissolved rapidly. I pulled a couple of dollars out of my wallet and walked over to one of the side altars. I lit two candles. One for each of my parents.
I knelt down and said a prayer for them. A comforting ritual. I felt a sudden sense of peace, love, sadness, serenity … I was home in my own body, my own business, my own life. I congratulated myself for recovering so rapidly from that short-lived, distressing experience.
I lifted up my head toward the warm, yellow glow of the front altar just in time to see a portly middle-aged woman with a red baseball cap, about half a dozen pews before me, aiming the business end of a video camera at me.
I glared and wagged an angry index finger at her. “Hey!” I loudly whispered. She turned away abruptly.
Aghhhhhh. Video cameras! Don’t get me started…..
One thing I really like about New Zealand is that cellphone calls are extremely expensive (to the caller), which means the vast majority of users text rather than making voices calls.
I was in New York City for two days about 14 months ago. Owing to the massive noise, dirt and frenetic energy of passers-by, that was all I could handle.
I was in New York City for two days about 14 months ago. Owing to the massive noise, dirt and frenetic energy of passers-by, that was all I could handle.
You talk about one of the main causes of my hypertension. It is due to a lame and superficial culture: quintessentially American. R
Oh, tell me about it! Trains and cell phones, a marriage made in hell...
Came back from my daughter's house in Boston on Amtrak. Sat in the Quiet Car, no cell phones allowed. Bliss. I feel your pain. As a long time rail commuter, I was subjected to this rudeness every night, although my group of crusty old timers soon drove this crowd elsewhere. Now, when I go in, I take TransBridge bus which does not allow cell phone conversations. If someone is on for more than a minute, the driver yells. Life as it used to be. R
So, um, met any nice telemarketers lately??
I'd have winged the guy with my eggroll. You are a woman of infinte patience.
R
R
I'd have winged the guy with my eggroll. You are a woman of infinte patience.
R
R
Hahaha! Enjoyed your rant immensely. In fact, it's the most eloquent and entertaining rant I've ever read, and I'm on board all the way with your sentiment. I read somewhere, I'm pretty sure, you can buy a jamming device that interferes with cellphone signals within a certain range, reaching out to at least a couple of neighboring tables in a restaurant. Unless I'm imagining this, and they truly exist, it might make a most worthwhile purchase.
Ooops... I hope I'm not imagining this...
I love, love, love this, Libby! "Starbuck’s white noise." Had never heard of that term, did you make it up? Your power of observation and expression is simply marvellous and makes for a compelling read. I've seen so many ceel users in Turkey, you wouldn't believe. Cell phones are a lot less expensive and are an integral part of daily life. Yet it has become also part of the decorum and one hardly hears someone yelling or swearing over a cell. TurkCell, the largest company provides excellent service that makeslife easier in unimaginable ways rather than a show off or anger expressing medium there. Totally different world. But what I really wanted was to say I love your piece - forgive me for carrying on, I'm still under the spell.
R♥
R♥
You are preaching to the choir, my friend. I used to work near St. Patrick's and remember the countless times people were talking on their cell phones. Once a young man (20ish) and his pal sat in the pews and he started talking LOUDLY on the phone and laughing--"hello, you're in church!" I guess there is nothing sacred left to some people. Even if you're not Catholic, you are in a place of worship where many people are seeking peace, solace, comfort, not more noise. and the people talking on my bus going to and from work drive me nuts too. Your brother is right: NY is the best free show in town. Top notch post, Libby. xox
You've captured just how disruptive cell phones are to public spaces. Annoying as all hell! And I admire your restarint in not pulling out the blond's ponytail.
I have also wondered sometimes, as you, when meeting someone chatting away to the thin air whether they are sanitarium escapes. Sometimes I involuntarily react as if they are speaking to me before I figure out they are wearing a head set or blue tooth.
Unfortunately, Google is working on a pair of eyeglasses that will show holograms via Skype of whom that person is talking to (through speakers on the glasses). Total distraction from public spaces complete.
I have also wondered sometimes, as you, when meeting someone chatting away to the thin air whether they are sanitarium escapes. Sometimes I involuntarily react as if they are speaking to me before I figure out they are wearing a head set or blue tooth.
Unfortunately, Google is working on a pair of eyeglasses that will show holograms via Skype of whom that person is talking to (through speakers on the glasses). Total distraction from public spaces complete.
Stuart, yes, texting seems to have been the communication of choice, especially for the young ones. I wonder about this trend of such minimal and remote communication but there is enough wrong with my generation to address sometimes I feel before over-generalizing about the "kids". How to best help the next generations, clean up our own.
New York City has wonderful qualities, Stuart. Hope the shock and awe negatives didn't eclipse the good stuff!
Thanks for commenting! best, libby
New York City has wonderful qualities, Stuart. Hope the shock and awe negatives didn't eclipse the good stuff!
Thanks for commenting! best, libby
Thoth, you sum up the issues well. I am not against cell phone use, I am against the abuse of it. And it does bring out the symptoms of shallowness and narcissism in some of our compatriots!
best, libby
best, libby
Thanks, Judy! well put! best, libby
Gerald, your "on top of the problem-ness" gives me hope! Thanks for commenting! best, libby
Zackd, not putting down advantages of the cell, just the abuse of it in terms of noise pollution and infringement on others! nice to see you! best, libby
V. Corso! :-) thanks!
Matt, is such a device possible? I mean one that civilians not homeland security would have use of? Thanks for your continuing validations! You are the best! best, libby xxxx
FusunA, thanks for your enthusiasm! Personal pop commentary is kind of fun and I am so glad you enjoyed this ranting. I want to play with this form more though this article was begun years ago and I re-found and played with again now. As for "white noise" it means a "continuing background noise that drowns out other sounds." It seemed to fit there. A kind of background hum that one gets acclimated to. I appreciate hearing about a far more considerate sensibility using cell phones in Turkey. welcome back! best, libby
Gerald, your "on top of the problem-ness" gives me hope! Thanks for commenting! best, libby
Zackd, not putting down advantages of the cell, just the abuse of it in terms of noise pollution and infringement on others! nice to see you! best, libby
V. Corso! :-) thanks!
Matt, is such a device possible? I mean one that civilians not homeland security would have use of? Thanks for your continuing validations! You are the best! best, libby xxxx
FusunA, thanks for your enthusiasm! Personal pop commentary is kind of fun and I am so glad you enjoyed this ranting. I want to play with this form more though this article was begun years ago and I re-found and played with again now. As for "white noise" it means a "continuing background noise that drowns out other sounds." It seemed to fit there. A kind of background hum that one gets acclimated to. I appreciate hearing about a far more considerate sensibility using cell phones in Turkey. welcome back! best, libby
John, nice to meet you! Thank you!!! This is rather daunting, what you share:
"Unfortunately, Google is working on a pair of eyeglasses that will show holograms via Skype of whom that person is talking to (through speakers on the glasses). Total distraction from public spaces complete."
Well, those who can afford them, given our economy, will get to really tune out the rest of the impoverished world, better for them I suppose, not stirring up any remote tinglings of conscience with such blinders.
Heavy sigh!
best, libby
"Unfortunately, Google is working on a pair of eyeglasses that will show holograms via Skype of whom that person is talking to (through speakers on the glasses). Total distraction from public spaces complete."
Well, those who can afford them, given our economy, will get to really tune out the rest of the impoverished world, better for them I suppose, not stirring up any remote tinglings of conscience with such blinders.
Heavy sigh!
best, libby
Erica, thanks for the comment and the endorsement of the "is nothing sacred anymore?" rhetorical question. I am not surprised you have witnessed cell phone talk in the cathedral yourself. You know, years and years ago I used to be a tour guide in a city in CT and people in the tours would sometimes begin pointing things out to each other in unmodulated voices (like Frank and Estelle Costanza say) as I was talking (we are talking groups of less than 12) as if I weren't speaking at the moment and the people around them were not focused on listening. As if I were a tv and they were in their living room having a casual conversation. Beyond narcissism to social autism! Most people had manners and good will and empathy but those exceptions were exceptional! I love how YOU address your NYC moments! best, libby xxxx
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