My hate/love relationship with the cellular phone began back in the early 1980s, before its popular existence. As an afternoon news anchor at a radio station in beautiful Vero Beach, I spent my mornings in aerobics classes with shapely housewives, reading murder mysteries while stretched out on a blanket at the beach, or attending to personal errands. My on-the-air time was from Noon to 6pm. And the folks I worked for treated me like a king, a major market voice come to their sleepy burg. My only encumbrance was a two-way radio to which I was beholden in case of an emergency. It so happened that one of these news emergencies occured while I was getting a pedicure, a process that no doubt ended the career of the unfortunate soul whose task it was to make my toes look lovely. I wanted to toss my two-way into the Atlantic! From that day forward, I’ve hated being accessible to everyone.
As luck would have it, I’m going out with a woman whose job takes her all over the world with little notice. She has a magnificent cellular thingamabob that allows her to make and receive calls from any location. Without her phone and mine, I’d have little contact with my jet-setting friend who manages to enrich my life with each new conversation.
So, in addition to resolving to Love My Cellular Phone, I’ve decided to upgrade. My next communications purchase in 2007 will be the Mio P550 DigiWalker PDA/GPS Navigation phone. It’s less than $400, has all the capabilities of a high-priced GPS, features built-in Wi-FI for instant access to the Internet, plus Bluetooth’s wireless connectivity.
Soon I’ll have my Mio, my stormy relationship with the cellular phone transformed to a transcendental love affair.