When my car and I swerve to avoid someone hypnotized by a cell phone, I secretly wish for a water pistol. Though, even if I shot cold streams out the window, would the driver look up, confirming zombies have not yet conquered Planet Earth?
Only if I soaked her/his phone.
My generation did not allow rotary phones to tyrannize us, right? Though how many Boomers refused to leave the house, waiting for a special person’s call. …
Nowadays, I grab my cell phone too often. I do know better than to text around younger generation pros. With help-this-old-lady-across-the-street compassion, some with speed-blurred thumbs offer to assist me.
Poor, overworked thumbs need a break. In fact, we should give data use, phone bills, and ourselves a break. What cell phone alternatives can help me break the habit?
Hubby and I have discovered one way: holding hands. On walks, we radicals converse, laugh, listen to cardinals’ songs and luxuriate in autumn beauty.
Friends may walk together, too. Having only texted for 20 years, they may need to exchange photos for identification purposes. Soon, though, they’ll discover the joy of talking with a real person.
- Wave at passing drivers. Imagine your town if all drove like you.
- Splash in puddles for fun instead of being sprayed while texting.
- Mentally rearrange someone’s outdoor furniture.
- Plant an imaginary flower bed at a plain house. Enjoy landscaping triumphs without an aching back and dirty fingernails.
- If walking past an elementary school, thank God you’re not the old woman who lived in a shoe. Or the unnamed wife of Feodor Vassilyev, eighteenth-century peasants with the Guinness record for number of children: 69.
- While in educational territory, mentally recite U.S state capitals you memorized in fifth grade. Mrs. Baker would be proud.
- Hop with one foot on muddy ground, so school kids think a single-footed alien visited.
- Search for cars dirtier than yours. Write congratulatory messages on windshields.
I offer final, unsolicited advice to young cell phone zombies: The love of your life could pass while you’re playing Super MarioTM. Or watching cat videos.
Wouldn’t holding that special human’s hand — maybe forever — be much more fun?
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What could you do instead of fiddling with your phone?