Reach Out and Touch Someone

I sometimes miss the days of having a conventional phone. You know, the kind you could slam on somebody's head and they'd be unconscious for half an hour. Remember how if you were really pissed at someone, you could slam the headset on its base and the person on the other end would get their eardrums blown? You can't do that with mobile devices. Close your flip phone and the other person will just think you're out of range. I have an old-school phone in my basement and am tempted to hook it up for shiggles. I remember twisting my finger around the cord while yakking it up with friends and how you couldn't leave the room while on it: You were stuck there until the conversation was over.

I watched a great independent movie a couple weeks ago called "We Don't Live Here Anymore".

Starring one of my all-time favorite actresses, Naomi Watts, as well as Mark Ruffalo, it tells the story of a guy and a girl (both of whom are married) who are having a affair. The film is set in the early 90's which makes sense because if you think about it, cheating can't be as easy these days as it once was, not with the advent of the cell phone. In the early days of Clinton, you could tell your beloved you were gonna be out for four hours and there was no way they could find you or check up on what you were doing, not unless you followed them or hired a private dick (pun intended). Though not a masterpiece, the movie was quite satisfying in three major ways: it dealt with real emotions, had no special effects, and gave me much to think about after watching it.

Two decades ago, my brothers were the kings of getting maximum use out of Alexander Bell's invention. On many evenings, they would call pizza places and have them deliver to a house up the street. It would always be amusing watching (from their house in the dark) the pizza man going up to the house and telling the occupant he had the pizza they "ordered". On one occasion, the guy actually bought the pizza. They would also call cabs to the same house and watch as the driver sat in his cab, waiting for his "customer" to come out. After a couple minutes, he would honk his horn. The boys always loved watching what would transpire. One time, two cabs from different companies were both in front of the house at the same time.