Cellphones: A Curse & A Blessing

Posted: August 5th, 2025 | Filed under: Culture, Ruminations, Streaming | 2 Comments »

My my my generation is one that grew up learning how to dial a rotary phone, which plugged into the wall with wires that ran to a telephone pole outside.

Some of us experienced the oddness of family lines, where several households had the same number and could listen in on the others’ calls.

True.

We remember when Ma Bell was deemed a monopoly and broken into regional monopolies.

We remember when we could buy our own phones instead of renting one from SC Bell.

And when push button phones became the norm. In colors no less.

We had answering machines.

Etc, etc.

You’re welcome for the quick trip back in the time machine.

Some of us were late arrivals to phones you could carry around in your pocket.

Guilty.

The early adopters, like my old pal Doug had one with an antenna which was the size of a shoe box.

I was a late adopter. In fact, won a bet with a couple other pals, wagering on who would be the last to get one.

I collected in a walk.

Finally broke down when my future bride demanded I get one 2005. It was a weekend she was going to be at a retreat in California, and I was going to be in Nashville for a basketball tournament.

Then came smart phones.

Which these days aren’t really phones, but pocket computers, which when the occasion arises allows you to talk with somebody on the other side of the world. Without paying long distance.

Again I was late arrival to the contemporary world.

I loved my flip phones. Texting with T9 was not onerous. Actually fairly intuitive.

But in 2021 I wanted to get tickets to a concert in Indy — Tedeschi Trucks Band if you can imagine — and printing them out with a bar code on a sheet of paper was no longer a thing.

So, I had to bust the move, getting an iPhone #Something or Another.

I’ve come to accept. To appreciate.

If only Dick Tracy creator Chester Gould were alive to see how his futuristic inventions came to life.

 * * * * *

I am also of the generation, most if not all of whom can keep the device in a pocket when socially engaged with others.

I shake my head in sadness when I see a group of teens walking down the street in a bunch, not talking with each other, each with their head buried in their phone. Some even texting others in the group they’re with.

I am given to pondering the future of human communication, when at a restaurant there will be two couples out for Friday night dinner, and having ordered, each has picked up their cell to check their texts.

Texting while driving? Don’t get me started.

I’m enough of an old school curmudgeon to decry the future of humanity in such a culture.

 * * * * *

All of which complaining brings me to this.

The joys cellphones bring.

I am enamored anew with the resurgence of my long time MLB favorite Detroit Tigers. When I’m not at home to stream their games on my computer — another blessing especially with Jason Benetti on the call — I can keep up with the team checking the score when I go to the Men’s Room. (Never at the table.)

Then there’s what happened Saturday morning. The reason I’m writing this very essay.

I’ve got a bunch of stuff going on in my life. It happens when octogenarianism arrives.

I was in a bad space, as we like to say.

Then I recalled that said aforementioned musical outfit — TTB — opened their tour the night before at Red Rocks. They are a group whose music sets me free of the savage beast more than any other of my faves during my lifetime.

And, sure enough there on youtube, on my laptop where I read the morning news and sports with breakfast every day, were videos of any number of their songs performed just hours before in Colorado.

Recorded on a cellphone. Pristine images. Damn fine sound. Then loaded for streaming.

A cover of  sprightly “Franklin’s Tower.”

Roll away/ Roll away the dew

Followed by another cover, this of Derek & Dominos’ “Anyday.”

And I know anyday, anyday, I will see you smile/ Any way, any way, only for a little while

For me, anyday was Saturday, hearing my favorite band. Dancing while making a cup o’ joe.

Thanks to some dude with a cellphone outside Denver.

— c d kaplan

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