Just another ordinary late afternoon. I’m sitting on the couch with a cup of tea, in front of the telly listening to whatever Dr. Phil has to tell me, meanwhile stroking the cat that’s purring contently. Everything is perfect. Except that something is missing. Food. My evening dinner is bound to arrive by the means and powers of Matt. In fact he should nearly be home by now.

Unfortunately, according to the tinny sound of the Sex and the City theme that reaches my ear, my cell phone has started ringing. It’s Matt.

“Hiya love. I was wondering, I had to buy something for the carrots, but I can’t remember…”
“Sesame seeds. You needed sesame seeds.”
“Ah, okay. Hey, did you want Diet Coke Lemon or Lime?” As if there is a tasteable difference…
“Erm, Lime would be cool.”
“Okay, bye bye, see you in a minute!”

I imagine Matt resuming his supermarket task like the way a enthusiastic toddler would be diving back into the ball pool of IKEA, after it has just climbed to his mum to show her the drawing he has made only to receive confirmation. I cringe.

I hate it when people use their cell phone to ask silly questions they could have answered themselves if they gave it some more thought. I know it can be very convenient when you desperately need an answer right away, but I’m still not used to it. It shows a certain dependence I don’t want to give in to.

Maybe it’s because of my upbringing. My family isn’t known for their early adopting of new technologies. My parents bought their first VCR only just before the DVD was invented. They’ve never owned a video camera, still don’t posses a digital camera and their first computer was running Windows 95.

When cell phones first made their entrance my parents and I used to joke about them. About those silly people seemingly schizophrenically talking to themselves while on the phone in public. Especially people in the supermarket calling their homes to ask which pizza or orange juice they were supposed to buy.

Have we become so dependent on instant communication in such a short amount of time? Can’t we arrange things without cell phones and instant reactions no more? It’s a certain need for always being available and reachable I don’t understand or aim for.

Another example: calling each other when on separate holidays. Such happened when Matt and I just started seeing each other and he went abroad with a few friends for only a week. He must have tried to call me at least 5 times out of his little tent. But why? Isn’t it nice to be free and loose of everything every once in a while? Maybe I should blame the drop of gypsy blood in my family genes.

When I think back, 8 years or so ago, in the beginning of my relationship with my then boyfriend, everything was still very different. We both didn’t have internet access. He had a very expensive, gigantic cell phone. I had none. I used to write enormous letters to him. Although this was, despite him, kinda sweet and cool, I would be mentally and emotionally unable to write such letters to people again. I acknowledge the simple fact that letters are nicer to receive than an email or a telephone call. But it takes so much time to write them! Let alone the time it takes for them to reach their recipient. History and news have been caught up by themselves before the letter has been read. Therefore the cell phone is a wonderful tool to quickly share feelings and memories.

Furthermore, in times of need you can always reach somebody for help. For instance, a few months back Matthew and I were lost after a day out with the car. Luckily we could call a friend to get instructions on how to get back to civilisation. Otherwise I would be living somewhere in the woods now, selling my man’s body to nearby farmers to obtain food and clothing.

So of course the cell phone has proved it’s purpose. Like I said, maybe I’m just born to be a slow adopter. I’m starting to get really hungry though.

Sex and the City resounds through the room again.
“Hey, should I bring dessert or something?”

Oh shut up. I can’t do it. Calling from the supermarket is really pathetic. Always.

Column published by Cecile on Monday, February 12th, 2007.

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