Bad-ass Amish

Just now.

“Can I speak to the person in charge of the electric bill?”

Me- No. We’re Amish.

*click*

For the sake of authenticity, I was pretending to be the kind of Amish person who has a cell phone that she charges at the neighbors house so she doesn’t miss any very important calls from telefuketors.

Now we shall roast the Amish…

All in good fun.

The Cellphone Generation

You know that ohshit moment when you realize you forgot something in the oven?

Well, I do that, except instead of food, I occasionally forget to pick up one of my kids.

Football last night.

In my defense, it was the second practice of the day, which translates to the fourth pick-up…for him. (plus two for Diva #13)

Annnnnnnnd, the final pick up was at 9 pm, meaning my brain had called it quits several hours prior.

Thank God for cell phones.

Not HIS cell phone though, which apparently is flat line due to water damage which by the way, is a complete mystery, because he absolutely did NOT have it anywhere near even a drop of water let alone a leaky athletic drink in his bag. (my personal expert wannabe CSI investigator opinion)

Nope.

He borrowed someone else’s phone to call.

Everyone has a cell phone, right?

Which made me think, HOW on earth did our generation survive our teens without portable communication devices?

Then it occurred to me.

If it was under 20 miles… we WALKED.

With an armful of books (backpacks were for camping) clunky over-sized projects the size of an empty refrigerator box, sports equipment without a fancy-carrying-bag and over-sized band instruments (I actually played the tenor sax for awhile- no shit) to name a few.

In the snow, sleet or rain.

Seriously.

We walked everywhere.

Apparently, walking 10 miles in the snow wearing a short cheerleading skirt with a tenor sax on your back leads to adult awesomeness.

I didn’t forget to say books, because those usually stayed in my locker.

Priorities.

Our kiddo’s are doomed.

It’s a damned good thing they have awesome parents.

RAAAAAAHHHHHHHRRRR!!!!!

Not-So-SMART Phones

Remember back in the day when people were forced to use phone booths for privacy?

Those were the days.

Lost is the era of discreet conversation.

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It was a quieter more peaceful time indeed.

Today, we have busy-body phone-gabbers buzzing around public places loudly conversing (seemingly) with themselves- wrapped up in senseless gossip, appointment scheduling, (Ahem…certain matters should be kept private) making dinner plans, exchanging recipes and basically just shooting the shit.

Enough with the bullshit chitter-chatter already.

I for one, consider it in poor taste to be gabbing on the phone while checking out at the pharmacy, grocery shopping, picking up a pizza or sitting in a crowded waiting room.

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It’s rude noise pollution and it makes my brain twitchy

Even worse are social gatherings where actual living-breathing people take a back seat to the almighty phone.

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Common courtesy is dead.

Your phone is not a time bomb that demands your immediate attention.

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Obviously, there are exceptions.

Like when my kids call- I answer.

Period.

MY mobile phone is for urgent or emergent on-the-run communication and not for chatting about my weekend plans, says me.

Also, the cell signal from my home sucks rotten eggs.

It’s like trying to have a conversation with Charlie Brown’s teacher.

“Wah Wah Wah Wah…”

Yes, occasionally most of the time my kid calls are petty, but it’s my choice to keep that lifeline open at all times.

Sigh…

“Ok, what flavor ice cream do you want?”

“Yes, so-and-so can sleep over.”

Also, it’s my dinner lifeline, also known as the pizza ordering communicator.

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Biggest most annoying phone faux pas ever- (in the history of time)

This one happens ALL the time.

A stranger walks into YOUR personal space gabbing on full volume, so you mistakenly respond or divert your attention, because naturally you assume they’re speaking to YOU.

We’ve been conditioned to respond. When someone speaks at a certain volume it commands our attention.

You then get ‘the look’ as if you’ve just invaded their privacy.

It’s like this. When you have diarrhea of the mouth in public you simply forfeit your privacy. Period.

I’m often tempted to join the conversation and give my two cents on the matter.

“I think she should name the baby Beatrice… lovely name.”

Okay, maybe I have.

It helps convert my frustration into giggles.

 

Society is becoming enslaved to their not-so-smart phones.

When I’m driving or having a real life conversation, texts automatically drop to the bottom of my “To Do” list.

 It’s called living in the now.

 

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Call me a bitch, but I’ve taken absolute control over my phone and justifiably so.

REAL life in real time comes FIRST. All electronic communication can take a number and be seated. That number may be two or it may be five zillion. 

You just never know, because life’s unpredictable like that.

 

Cell Phone Diarrhea

WHEN it’s ACCEPTABLE to gab away on your cell phone in public.

Pretty much never.

Okaaaay, maybe emergencies like…

*”Mom, you forgot me at soccer field again and I’m surrounded by rabid cheetahs.”

*Grocery store- “Honey do you want regular pads or the long absorbent ones with stealth bomber wings?”

*”How bout the Hershey bar… bite size or the pounder?” (Dumb and dangerous question, but you get the point.)

*”Mom, Aunt Crazy’s here. Don’t come home yet.” (Thank you, God. Close one.)

*”Kenny lit the babysitter’s hair on fire again!”

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WHY it’s RUDE to have mouth diarrhea in a public place…

*That means gab on your iToilet  cell phone.*

I (and probably 99.9% of the population) don’t give a rats ass about your cousin Bambi’s new glow-in-the-dark breast implants, Pat winning the jackpot at Lesbian BINGO Night, or that Two-timing Mitch’s girlfriend gave birth to a three-headed albino dragon.

I. Don’t. Care.

Nobody cares.

That stuff hurts my brain and makes it want to catapult right outta my skull onto a hot frying pan.

If you must gab in public, be courteous enough to put a garbage can on your head.

Also, if the public can easily hear your conversation, it’s their right to engage in said public conversation at any given time.

This seems reasonable.

The following has been an Extreme Mom public service message.

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