There are times when we learn something about ourselves and, in retrospect, we are not happy about our personal discovery.
Last week my cell phone died. That’s what I thought at least. In actuality, according to the carrier, all service was down from Whitefish to Missoula for hours. The cause – one of the local fires had melted an under ground fiber optic cable.
I had no idea how much I relied on my cell phone working. When, suddenly, I was unable to make calls …
Wait. Hold on a second. Someone is calling me …
OK, I’m back.
Where was I. Um … Anyway.
I never thought I would be a person who was addicted to their cell phone. I would go so far as to say that I never even wanted one. I was forced to buy one when I got my first photo job out of college, “Because we need to always be able to get in touch with you in the case of breaking news.” I promised myself at that point that …
Oh shoot… I have to take this… sorry.
Ok, I’m back, sorry about that.
So when my phone service went out, I felt this hole open inside my soul and fill with panic. What if someone is trying to get in touch with me right now? What if it’s important? What if they don’t leave a message? What if there’s an emergency? I was sorely disappointed in my reaction.
Later, when service was returned, I talked to a friend that went to the carrier’s store thinking she needed a new charger. What she found were about 60 angry customers demanding to be “plugged back in” to the system.
It’s no revelation that we have become a cell phone obsessed society. My only disappointment is through introspection. The discovery that I have become exactly what I didn’t want to be. And above all, the earth shattering, life-changing, shocking truth that I….
Can you hold on a second … Sorry. It’s my other line. This one might be important.
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