Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts

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!





Wednesday, December 3, 2008

About an ode to cell phone talking

(Apologies to John Keats)

O thou unravished bride of ringtones,
Thou foster-child of minutes lost,
Obsidian recorder of my spent time,
Flowery conversations less stately than this rhyme.
What mythical tale has come to thy ear,
Of husband or daughter or friend held dear,
In car or home or grey-walled cubicle?
What whacky people these? What friend gone nuts?
What errand gone mad? What struggle to escape?
What radio rhythm? What wild ecstasy?

Unheard conversations are sweet, but those heard
Drive you crazy. Therefore, keep thy conversations to thyself.
Not only to my ear, but to those
Fair friends, caught in cars or office near, who cannot leave
Thy voice; nor ever can that story be ended;
Bold talker, thou can never shut up
Though my hand hovers near your mouth;
Yet for this interruption I cannot grieve;
Volume cannot fade, for thou has not thy bliss
Forever wilt though talk, and me overhear!

O rectangle shape! Fair little keyboard!
If only men and women would text,
With quick fingers and quiet mien,
Thou silent form! Nothing teases us out of anger
As dost a hang-up. Dear reader, that's cold.
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of our communication,
So this, face to face, to thou I shall say,
"Shut up! or I shall throw that ******** phone into tomorrow" -- that is all
I need to say, or anyone needs to know.