Spoke to a friend this afternoon for the first time in a couple of weeks. She was home, I was at my desk.
The last time we talked, I was in my car and she was in Hawaii.

Today’s conversation was so much more pleasant, because we were both on regular old telephones.
The exchanges were clear, and there was no pausing or raised voices.
I like the clarity of the regular old phone, and I still like the heft of a receiver in my hand.

I’m not the biggest fan of cell phones. I find them intrusive.
I don’t often want to talk, and I don’t often want to be talked to. Or even found.
And yes, I do understand they are useful under certain circumstances and in emergencies.

The last time I exchanged my cell phone for a new one, the clerk checked my record.
“Can we talk you into more than 300 minutes a month?”
“Can I talk you into fewer?”

Right now, my cell phone is where it belongs. In the car. Off.