The old days: Thought in head. Speech through mouth.
The old days: Cell phone off. Someone might call me. With work. Wouldn’t want that. “How come you never answer your mobile?” Switch it on to call other people. Quickly switch if off again. Occasionally lend it to soldiers on duty at “incidents” or outbreaks of “bother” to let them call back home to Britain – in exchange for them giving access or information. Otherwise peace. Quiet. Meeting someone? Make an arrangement and stick to it.
These days: Cell phone on. Someone might call me. With work. Freelance. Keen. And on duty to respond to emergencies like forgotten PE kit, after school activities with the bus long gone. Emails. Audio recording. Writing. Maps. Twitter. Facebook. Etc. Etc. If only it came with a pillow I could sleep on it.
These days: No need for any thought in head. Adjust sitting position. Then, using either buttock, accidentally trigger cell phone and dial a random person in phone’s address book. Nothing to it. You’re talking through your arse. That’s progress for ya. Just pray your backside hasn’t dialled Australia.
Or the police. Really. Apparently the technical term is “butt dialling”. Who knows what confidential conversations your butt might decide to share with your last number dialled. (A story for another time – or perhaps the comments. Anybody?)
This post on mobile telephony is for the Loose Bloggers Consortium. You’ll find them by clicking on their names if they’re not asnwering their cell phones – Ramana, Delirious, gaelikaa, Grannymar, Maxi, Padmum, Shackman and The Old Fossil.