I never thought I would be quoting Lady Gaga in this blog, but the other day her song came on the radio and I caught the words, “And I am sick and tired of my phone ringing/Sometimes I feel like I live in Grand Central  Station.”  Hmmm…Lady Gaga and I have something in common.  I found it interesting, if not surprising, that in this age of 24/7 technological connectedness she seemed to be advocating for turning off our cell phones, but she was, and I could relate.

Every day in offices and restaurants I see people with their Blackberrys and iPhones perched strategically within arms’ reach on desks and tables, always at the ready, like a soldier with a gun.  We are always plugged in, available, and in communication technologically, via phone, email, text, chat.  Personally, I hate it.  In our house there’s a rule that we don’t answer the phone during dinner.  I also don’t answer the phone if I am in the middle of something, like washing the dishes with my hands wet and soapy, or reading a book to my 4 year old daughter.  As Clint Eastwood said in Play Misty For Me: “Where does it say that I gotta drop what I’m doing and answer the phone every time it rings?”  That was in 1971 when there were no cell phones, PDAs, or internet.  

I’ll never forget my first yoga class a couple of years ago.  I had finally overcome my aversion to all things “hippy-like” and decided that I would try yoga to help with back pain and provide some stress relief.  I went to a small yoga studio with soft lighting and walls covered with Indian art and Sanskrit writings. No Power Yoga for me.  The teacher’s voice was so soft and gentle and melodious that in one of my un-focused moments I thought that the entire studio might uproot itself from the foundation and float away.  Then it happened - a cell phone rang.  I immediately recognized the ring tone. I was mortified.  It took me a few seconds to emerge from my yoga stance and remember where I had left my bag, then I apologetically tip toed across the bamboo floors, groped through my bag to find my phone, and turned it off.  (No, I did not look to see who had called.)  I couldn’t think of a more inappropriate place to have a cell phone ring than in a yoga class – or maybe at a funeral.  After class, I apologized profusely to the teacher, who gave me a sympathetic smile and a big hug.  I’ve continued yoga, but I’ve never left my cell phone on during class again.

Technology has been a blessing in the workplace and for parents, to be sure.  Only now that I have children of my own can I understand my mother’s pained look of relief when I would walk in the door half an hour past my curfew during high school.  Had I had a cell phone, I could have called her to let her know that I was safe, but late.  Some would argue that technology has not made us more efficient, but that it’s given us more to do, more anxiety, more work.  I love the access to information, the freedom, and connection that technology has afforded us, but at the same time, I fear that with technology and access 24/7, we’ve lost control of our lives and our schedules.  Clint’s question back in 1971 was not an insignificant one:  when and why did it become acceptable and even expected that we would be available to our colleagues, friends, and family around the clock, no matter where we are or what we’re doing?  It’s about quality, not quantity.   I want quality time with my family, quality time with my thoughts during my commute home, even quality time shopping; that is, time spent in relative quiet without jingles, beeps and whistles.  After all, I do some of my best thinking while shopping and driving.

I realize that I may be in the minority, but please, don’t call me old or old fashioned.  I’m also displeased with the lack of personal customer service these days, which has been replaced by voicemail messaging systems,  ATMs and self-service.  I have a theory about the link between lack of human connection and increasing global violence, but I’ll save that for another blog.  In the meantime, my daughter is heading for middle school and yes, we will finally buy her a cell phone.  I just hope that she’s around to talk to me because I won’t be available to text.