The Driving Dead

There may be nothing I hate more about the world today than cell phones. I was probably the last person on earth to come around to the new technology, buying my first mobile phone in probably 2002 and the only reason I did was because it was a hell of a lot cheaper than a landline. Since then I have watched as almost everyone around me has been pulled into the vortex of this mind-eating, conversation-robbing, annoying-as-hell invention which has filled our streets with horrifying brain-dead zombies all in the name of keeping us all “connected.” Of course, all we’re really connected to is a small screen in the palm of our hands but that seems to be more than enough for a staggering segment of modern society.

I realize that to bitch about this is like an old man screaming at teenagers to get off his lawn and less effective than standing on the shore trying to hold back the waves but I just really don’t want to be a part of it. Is that even possible? I can’t hit every phone-absorbed person over the head with a board with a nail sticking out of it no matter how much fun that would be. I can’t do that, right? Like, there may be laws against it or something?

As bad as things are at least my generation (old farts) hasn’t suffered as much because of phones as teenagers. Most kids freak me the fuck out with their obsession with teeny, weenie little screens. It makes me sad to see a group of young kids quietly ignoring one another as they probe into the depths of their gadgets getting more cross-eyed and stupid with every button they push.

The relentless peer pressure to have only the latest and most expensive models is terrifying to me. I’ve had children as young six years old mock my inexpensive mobile phone so either your kid gets an iPhone or a Smartphone or you’d be advised to sleep with one eye open at night. Few people have the stamina and will power to resist the onslaught of marketing peddling the newest gadgets.

Buses and trains once filled with people reading books are now more like moving video game parlors. Welcome to the post-literate society where if anyone remains who is clever enough to make a literary reference the other dumbfounded people can just Google it.

P.S. Text Messages of Death

The NSA must have records of the text messages and phone transcripts of people as they drove their cars off a bridge or plowed into a crowd of school children. These final words should be published at the beginning of their obituaries just so everyone can know what was so vitally important to the deceased that they were texting or talking when they should have been driving. Who knows, maybe we can start embarrassing drivers into not being obnoxious and dangerous assholes? I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t want my last communication in this world to be "LOL" or “R U @ The Mall?” or the posthumously ironic "B home @ 10."