E.T. ,call us !

Where are E.T. and his pals when we need them?

Cell phones are the new karaoke. You have only to watch an over loud performance and you will see the similarities immediately. The same loud and overtly emotive manner is inherent in both performances. In both cases, you hope the caller is either immediately struck by lightning or later, abducted by aliens. Where are all these UFO’s when we really need them?

In some of the calling performances, you can watch a charming rendition of the old French favorite, “regarde moi,” (look at me). In these cell phone performances, the actor wants all around him/her to “look at me,” and will make whatever noise is necessary to attract that attention, however rude or obnoxious their behavior. I hope the aliens are listening in.

It's too bad we didn’t have panels of reviewers, like American Idol judge Simon Cowel, to give the talkers a caustic review and a suggestion that they “not quit their day job. Put away the phone and go stand in the corner for a month.” We could then give the aliens their location for swift removal.

In airports, restaurants and other public venues, you continually see variations of this “regarde moi” performance. Whatever happened to private telephone conversations and consideration for others? I really don’t want to listen to these intrusive conversations, usually about nothing.

Sometimes, you will hear a performer enact the “look who I know,” or “look where I have been,” performance. It is a variant of the “regarde moi” scenario, trying to impress listeners with how important and well connected the performer is.

And then are the lighted, search for e-mails and messages performances in a darkened theater. When that happens, it isn’t just distracting. It is down-right annoying. The practice supposedly caused one irate former police captain to shoot the message checker to death after a prolonged dispute, involving a lighted cell phone in a darkened theater. Though unfortunately extreme as a response, it shows how annoying the practice is to people.

To be fair, there are people, of a certain age, who have lost some of their sense of hearing. They speak more loudly than most and have difficulty with phone conversations. With them we sympathize and smile at their frailty. We too will be there soon enough. But, what of the others? What is their story, other than bad manners and no consideration for others?

A newer wrinkle is the gym cell yuppie, who plays with his/her phone, while supposedly working out. In reality, they park their butt on a weight machine and play with their phones for an extended length of time. Most of us don’t care about their goofing off in a gym. We just want them to get off the weight machine that so many of us could make use of. As usual, the abusers are clueless as to whom they are inconveniencing. I wonder if we can lure aliens into the gym to carry them off? E.T., call us !

In frustrated response, to dealing with the whole knuckle headed array of “cell phone monsters,” we can only but do what the judges on the American Idol Program do. Make a grimace and then start laughing at the performer. Perhaps if several, or maybe many of us, laughed at the overly loud performers, of gym hogs, they might be embarrassed into turning down the volume of their conversations or maybe even leaving the pesky devices at home. They can always hold onto a plastic bottle in their left hand, like a child’s binky, to tide over their addiction, until they can wait a bit and feed their addiction, while driving a two-thousand pound automobile, at speed,  in heavy traffic.

If these remedies don’t work, perhaps we should do what another reality program has shown us how to handle the situation. “Vote them off the island.” In thousands of restaurants, airports, gyms and hotel lobbies, the blessed silence would be a palliative to the ears and the soul. And the new alien abduction rate will keep the extra-terrestrials happy for years to come

                                                          -30-

                                                    (680 words)

                                                 Joseph Xavier Martin