Maybe it's a guy-thing, I don't know. Mrs. Porcupine gets concerned when her friends haven't called in a few days. If we didn't hear from her mother and sisters every day I don't know how she'd react. I don't know because it's never happened. That's just the way it is.
I have friends I haven't talked to in a year or more. Ok, so I'm bad. On the other hand, they haven't exactly been beating down my door either. The way I see it, if nothing has happened to change things, we still like each other and we're still friends. We'll catch up later. Maybe much later, but we'll get there. We'll pretty much pick up where we left off, too. I don't know. Maybe it's a guy-thing.
Or maybe it's just me. Here's the opening line from an article I came across: "Unless you're living a seriously alternative lifestyle, you've probably been communicating via text for a while now." Wow. All this time I thought I was just old-fashioned, reclusive, and crabby. "Alternative" sounds so much better. That's what I'm going with now. I'm not a misanthrope. I'm alternative, seriously alternative.
Really though, I've never sent or received a text message in my life. Probably because (brace yourself) I don't have a cell-phone or any other gadget to do it. Honestly, I don't even pick up my land-line too often. What? Just because you can push a few buttons I'm supposed to drop everything and come running? I don't think so. Or maybe I just don't feel like talking. I'll admit it: maybe I'm standing right there. Maybe I know who it is from the caller ID already. Maybe I just want to see what you want. Leave a message. If it's that important, I'll pick up or call back.
Maybe.
All right, I am a misanthrope. So? I reserve the right to be out. That's what it boils down to. Sorry, I can't take your call. I'm out. Maybe I'm physically out, maybe just mentally, but I'm out. When will I be back? Later. Right now, I'm out.
Not so long ago, this was the rule. No answering machines, no caller ID, no call waiting, and certainly no cell-phones: remember? Phones rang and were either answered or not. Or maybe the line was busy. Somehow we all managed. I may be in the minority, but I seem to be doing just fine still.
Mrs. Porcupine was with me on this for a long time. Then, when she was pregnant with our youngest, my mother-in-law slipped her a cell-phone "just for emergencies." She may as well have given her a vial of crack. Now she's hooked. Now she's one of them. Actually, I have wonderful in-laws, but when telephones become available as implants, I bet they'll be first in line.
I don't see any advantage to being instantly available. There's almost no reason for it. I admit, if a loved one were in hospital I might pick up a prepaid, just in case, but that's about all. What if I break down and need a tow? I'll manage. I managed before cell-phones; I'll manage now. It might be a pain, but it would be a pain anyway. I'll live. Really.
I imagine someday I might have to get one. Technology has a way of ooching into our lives, welcome or not. I'll deal with that later. Until then, I'm going to enjoy my gadget-free, seriously alternative life. Most times, when people call me from their cells, the news is either bad or trivial. Both can wait. Call me if you like, but be sure to leave a message.
I'm probably out.
Very Truly Yours,
Porcupine
