Monday, March 23, 2009

About, ode to a cell phone

There was no way to talk.
There was no way to text.
And the little black cell phone
Now has me perplexed.

Where last night all was well
Where last night all was right
Now this morning it seems
You've been hit with some blight!

Why won't you boot up?
Where's your welcoming screen?
Where's the sweet tone that says,
"You have messages--fourteen!"

A sick feeling settles down over my head.
No matter my action, you seem to be dead.
A frantic phone call to Verizon confirms
There may be some substance attached to my dread.

A long, quiet day with no Elvis ringtone
To warn me of text or call or voice mail.
Had I heard of the last of my little cell phone?
That seemed so reliable, friend without fail!

A long wait this evening at the cell store,
All those with lost phones, lost minutes, and more--
Finally, my name called, my cell in my hand,
I approach the counter, so youthfully manned!

Young JJ, he tried so hard it to revive,
But that which is dead, cannot come back alive.
The little black Alias which was so dependable
Now was just so much black plastic, sadly, expendable.

Well bummer. Now what should I do?
The timing's not right for a new-every-two.
But suddenly! An idea ballooned in my head!
I remembered my Razr, so straight home I fled.

My once-favorite phone, now consigned to the closet,
Still working, still trendy, too good to toss it,
All it needs is a charge, and a little activation,
With a few keystokes, a *228, we had affirmation!

The Razr, it works! And a such a low cost!
If texting is clumsy, at least no calls are lost!
We have voice mail, we have cheery rings--
Alas, no contacts, but the call is the thing!

The lesson I've learned all this long cell-less day
How much I depend on that digital display--
And friends, now listen, no matter the cost
Back up those contacts, cos damn! Mine are lost!

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