Let’s talk about cell phones. I just recently got one… well, technically, sort of… it’s a Tracfone, so it’s still like not having one. It is not on all of the time and people can’t expect to reach me on it unless I tell them too. In fact, if it starts ringing in a coat pocket, I go into an instant hissy—reminiscent of Jerry Lewis shtick—trying to find which pocket it is in and franticly hitting buttons to end the incessant ringing. Historically, I was ahead of the curve of technology, but I always had a resistance to cell phones. The main reason? They bring out the dipshit in otherwise normal people and they exaggerate the dipshittedness of baseline dipshits. Let’s take driving. In the past when I would get behind a driver going 24mph in a 25mph zone, or worse, when I would get behind two drivers exhibiting this behavior abreast on a two lane road (argh!), and would get a glimpse of the driver, I would almost always see an old person or a Mom. Lately, though, it is middle aged or even younger guys. And, though some cellphoners probably feel pretty smackin’ hip talking while driving, they look like total yahoos, waving their hand off the wheel due to intense emotion and bobbing their irradiated heads to and fro like… dipshits. (check out this chic multitasker).
Snappy! There is nothing more annoying (and yet reassuring of one’s curmudgeonry) than to witness idiotic driving only then to see that the asshole was on the phone. And since getting the tracfone, I fully know why. I’ve tried dialing it and talking on it while driving, and what does it make me? A dangerous dipshit! Of course, I could go on… so I will.
When classes let out here in our fine college town and the coeds scamper from class to class, I’d guess 2 out of every 3 of them are on their cells. Now, just what the fuck could they possibly have to say and who the hell wants to hear it? In my college days, I used to use this time to muse about the class, watch the ducks (or even better, ducklings) float by on the river, examine the absolutely hot women all around me (an Iowa City specialty), or just veg out. I rarely, if ever wanted to call a buddy and say “What’s up? I just got out of class and I’m walking to my next class. I hope that news didn’t make you shit yourself with excitement!” To make things worse, these kids (there it is, I’m now officially old) will be so into their vapid exchanges that they will readily walk into the path of 2 tons of moving steel, then when I resist the temptation to pop the offender up on my hood for a quick exchange with my windshield and instead slam on my breaks, I get sneered at. Or lets take the dweeb who is so into his text message (WTF is the point of texting? Ain’t that a waste of technology?) that he walks at 0.5mph through a crosswalk as a bus full of passengers waits to make a right turn. I’m amazed no one has died, but the “conversations” must go on.
Another cell phone dipshit is the person having a personal conversation in the aisle of a drug store that seems offended when you walk into the that aisle to buy an unmentionable that they were Bogarting in the first place. And lastly, I mention the old people in airports talking at 110 decibels about their hemorrhoid surgery for all to hear.
Okay, that is enough of that. Coming up soon, the year in review (ooohhhh!!!!).
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