Life In A Cell

I know a number of lifers. Their cell phones don't leave their thumbs for  a second. And that's okay with me. It's the way they keep in touch and even though, it, too, will go out of style eventually, it's not my business to tell others how to live. Well, maybe a little. I have a cell phone and I find it great, but I use it only for calling a taxi, a waiting friend or as security when walking or driving. All other times, because I am at home most of the time, I don't care to pack a cell phone around with me every second of my life. I don't want to hear it ring in another room, and have to run around trying to find out where I left it last. Women do not have a myriad of handy pockets to slide things into  just to have their cell phones constantly on hand.  Having them in a purse, even though it has pockets, means digging amongst the myriad of  handbag essentials to extract a phone. No thanks, I love my land line units. Cell phones are no boon to me and, most of the time, they are a  necessary nuisance. I do not need to gab with my pals incessantly. Among my friends, the real ones, not the Facebook bevy of odd visages lined up and down for miles, a few have cell phones but, like me, they also have land lines and are at home, not at the job or on the sidewalks or driving cars every day. To those who groan when I say I have a phone book, nay, I like it, and furthermore, stay out of my life and my choices. I do what fits my life; you stick to yours. For one thing, a phone book, I find, is a handy reference. But I suppose there are phone "books" on cell phones, too. But if I am searching for a plumber, I don't want  to scroll through every one on the continent. Everything, I am told, is harboured in that tiny 2 by 5 inch do-dad. Oh excuse me again, only the old use inches and feet.  Cell phones are fine if you have three arms, two to use for human purposes, and the third, to hold your device. Once, a cousin of mine, broke a bone in his upper quadrant and the brace stuck out in front of his chest with his arm strung on it. Now if you addicted cell phone users, could get one of those contraptions, it would be ideal for you. But I jest. I know there are elders who binge on old TV game shows and wouldn't let a piece of electronics in their front doors. But just ask them how to use the latest TV operations on their updated set, and you will be amazed at the skill. Old folks are no dummies when it comes to doing what they love. Bingo dauber art is something that terrifies me to watch. How those ladies manage their collections of cards and swing those daubers about is uber. And don't dare to speak when a hot game of Bridge or chess is happening in the rec room.  But mention the word cell phones or e mailing, and you're in for a fight. The reasons they don't, are, that it is too complicated, but if you have ever played games with the same people, stand back. Just try to convince them that a computer is a cinch to conquer as is a cell phone. I did learn something new from a TV movie, however, if your cell phone goes dead, as a last ditch effort, you touch it to your nose. The nose knows. Excuse me, it's my cell. I really have to take this.