May 28, 2007 - 05:08:44 CDT
Manners are going to heck in a handset, and I think telephones are to blame.Stand back, dear readers: I am on a rant.
Part of the problem is that I am old, cranky and loathe to change my ways.
When I was a teenager, I had a telephone surgically implanted in my ear. I was one with the phone all day and into the night.
Now, in my dotage, I cringe when I hear teenagers and their convoluted, unending chatterings: "So ... what kind of music do you like?"
Ihave no desire to know, and I run from the room - returning hours later, in time to hear, "So ... what kind of movies do you like?"
Oy.
Excepting the very first, and a few great ones by Bob Newhart, phone conversations are not meant to be overheard. For one thing, what is rapturously fascinating to one person will probably be deadly boring to everyone else. For another, hearing one side of the call requires an eavesdropper to fabricate the other side, and this feels way too much like work.
3 Rule No. 1: Keep your phone conversations private. Nobody has corded phones anymore; walk your chat into another room, where you won't be disturbed and you won't disturb others. The only exception to this rule is when incredible news is involved, such as the birth of a grandchild in a distant city (an event we'll be blessed with in October). In this case, it is permissible to not only stay in the room, but to repeat everything told to you, for the benefit of everyone around you:"She had the baby? And it's a boy? And he weighs 27 pounds? And now she wants a divorce?" That sort of thing.
And, while I'm ranting, what is up with machines that not only call you, but then put you on hold, on the off-chance a real person will show up at some point? How did this ever come into fashion?
What genius decided that this would be a great way to save money? "Let's not pay some poor sap minimum wage to actually dial the phone; we'll have a machine do it! People will love being put on hold by a machine!"
3 Rule No. 2: If you are called by a machine that asks you to hold on, hang up. This is the only acceptable response.
Almost as bad is the automated phone system. You know what I mean: "If you are calling to renew a prescription, press 1; if you are calling to report a fire, press 2; if you are beating the phone against your head out of frustration, press 3; if ..."
3 Rule No. 3: If you don't really need to make this call, hang up. Playing along only encourages these people. If you do need it, try dialing zero after the annoying menu starts. Sometimes this will take you to an actual person. Granted, that person probably doesn't know much, but at least you're subverting the process. If there is a separate number listed where they want to sell you something, try that one. Chances are good that the line that makes them money will be better tended.
Actually, this rant began formulating last Friday, when my weekly graze-o-rama at the Los Amigos Mexican buffet was interrupted by a woman holding an extended cell-phone chat at a table across the room.
She was sitting with two other people and, throughout her drawn-out and dramatic call - something like, "She took a baseball bat to his car? Wow." - they were forced to appear attentive but not like they were eavesdropping.
Of course, the volume we tend to use on cell phones meant that the entire restaurant eavesdropped and, like driving past an accident site, we wanted to ignore it, but we couldn't: "... Well, what did the judge do?"
3 Rule No. 4: Read Rule No. 1 again. Then realize it goes double for cell phones in any public venue, and triple for restaurants where I'm trying to graze. If you are confronted by someone having a loud, lengthy cell-phone conversation in a restaurant, particularly if that person is sitting at a table with other people, ask your server for a pitcher of ice water. Accidentally pour it over the offending person's head. This should disable the cell phone. If not, at least you'll feel better.
Now, you may be asking yourself if I hate telephones. Not really. The love affair of my teen years is over, but there are a very few phone calls that I still welcome:
3 From my husband, Saint Pete, whom I never see in person anymore, thanks to conflicting schedules.
3 From those far and dear, which includes just about all of my family and friends.
3 From readers - particularly when they mention they like my column much better than Kelly Hagen's.
3 From my agent, telling me publishers are fighting over my book (this hasn't actually happened yet, but I'm convinced I'd like it).
Then there was the phone call I received last week from an anonymous woman who called herself "a fan," yet found room to criticize.
Sadly, she was right ...
q q q
CORRECTION: In my last column, I attributed the song "Sisters" to the movie "Holiday Inn." It was, in fact, from that other Irving Berlin Christmas musical in which Bing Crosby sings "White Christmas," called "2 Fast 2 Furious."
CORRECTION: Actually, Irving Berlin had little to do with "2 Fast 2 Furious," and Bing Crosby had only a cameo role.
CORRECTION: Actually, "Sisters" was sung by the lovely Rosemary Clooney and (lip-synched by) Vera-Ellen in the movie "White Christmas." Neither was furious, though I think Vera-Ellen might have been a little fast.
(Reach Derri Scarlett at 250-8249 or derri.scarlett@;bismarcktribune.com. Her column runs on alternate Mondays.)
Derri B (England) wrote on Sep 25, 2007 4:18 AM:
Therese wrote on Jun 8, 2007 7:19 PM:
NS wrote on May 29, 2007 1:48 PM:
Not a fan wrote on May 28, 2007 8:37 PM:
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