Giving up my cellphone

Last week I gave you some information about the growing body of research that shows that cellphones may be responsible for an array of health problems, including brain tumours.

And I promised you my story about the joys and tribulations of giving up my cellphone. Here it is.

After reading a bit more about the dangers of cellphones and increasingly resentful about the money and manipulative contractual conditions inherent in cellphone ownership and use I was determined to get rid of my own cellphone. It took me a couple of months to get my head around the idea though.

I started by curtailing my cellphone use and keeping my conversations short. At the same time I became aware of a buzzing in the ear that I usually held my cellphone to and tried to be conscious of switching sides.

Then, every month when my cellphone bill came in I griped about the cost of getting out of my user contract early. Eventually I asked myself why it really mattered. After all it was ridiculous for me to be paying $30 a month (the most economical plan I could squeak by with) for the few phone calls I now made. I might as well bite the bullet and just get rid of the thing.

Of course phone plans are created in such a way as to keep you locked in for as long as possible, luring you to the next usage plan period with new technology. Penalty fees are set up in such a way as to deter you from going cold turkey. Either you buy out of your plan or you just stick with it and then are escorted into the next era of use.

But I did it. I called up Rogers and said to the surprised operator that I wanted to cancel my contract and quit using my cellphone for health reasons. I just received my final bill - $160 to get out of my plan that still has 7 months of life to it – not cheap in financial terms but worth my piece of mind and potentially my future health. And I was so happy knowing I wouldn’t have to listen to the Rogers’ robot acting friendly toward me while offering me its confusing array of service options.

Then came life without a cellphone. There’s no denying it’s not nearly as convenient.

I now find myself scanning the landscape for payphones, (ones that work) as I move about my day. I have learned to ply myself with quarters and to hold some back when paying for things, just like in my laundromat days. And when I make phonecalls I pray for a real live human being to answer, preferably the one I’m trying to reach. These conditions are either non-existent or less limiting with a cellphone. You just call again when you’re crossing the street, waiting in a lobby, or riding the bus. Going without a cellphone cuts down on that flexibility and the ability to change plans depending on circumstances that arise.

And far removed from the slick, sexy, girl-on-the-go image of the cellphone marketing world, my excursions to phone booths now marginalize me to dark, windy corners or little-used bowels of public buildings and subject me to scorn as a techno-peasant.

For example, this morning I finished doing something earlier than expected so I thought I would see about changing the time of my next appointment. First I had to wait in line at a coffee shop to ask for change for the payphone. Then I was directed to the Security desk to find out where one might be because the people at the coffee shop didn’t know where they were (or if there were any). The security guard directed me down the hall and down a freight elevator to the loading dock level. Eureka! Two payphones and one that actually worked.

I made my call only to get voicemail. I considered my options: 1) hang around the loading bay for 5 minutes and try again with uncertain results; 2) leave a message – saying what?? I ponder how useful that would be; or 3) don’t leave a message and go back up to the comfy chairs in the lobby and write this story. After all it’s been percolating in my mind for the past few months and there’s no time like the present!

I opted for # 3 and in this case, it turned out to be best use of my time anyway. I asked myself, would I really have been any better off having my appointment any earlier, especially since the result is I finally got some of these words down.

I think of the historical mystery novels I love to read where the protagonist has to wait days if not weeks or months to communicate some vital piece of information. And of immigrants who learn months after the fact, that their parents have died in the old country.

Slow is not always good and carries its own hindrances, but today we seem to get sucked in by the idea that we might lose out if we’re not constantly available and immediately able to get the latest information. Is it insecurity or is it just human nature to become comfortable and familiar with a particular time dimension and unable to comprehend a change? Or is it about the fear of missing out on some illusive factor that will make our lives full and happy?

Marketing slogans espousing the ability to “stay in touch” with pictures of beautiful, laughing people play on this insecurity and belie the stories we tell our children that they don’t need to hurry or be first. People expect to be able to reach you anytime so they can get on with their next decision as fast as possible. They are annoyed if you hold them up and even see you as irresponsible. And maybe – they drop you - the marketing-induced fear of being left behind comes true.

For me, despite the inconveniences, I feel great knowing I’m free of Roger’s and its pseudo-friendly robotic voicemail, its fees and products, and its self-important advertments.

And I no longer have any buzzing in my ears and for that I am eternally grateful.