Mobiles (2)

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Don't get me wrong – I've nothing against Mobiles – some of my best friends are . . .

Ok one of my best toys is a mobile. Not the fanciest, I grant you but I can understand why people like to use them & get the ones full of the latest features – the All-singing, All-dancing best of breed. I'd be the same if I didn't have more valuable things to buy.

I've nothing against them as a toy or a tool. Technology, in itself, is a great thing & I wouldn't/couldn't be without it (as I work for that sort of company) so how can I complain about its proliferation? Mobiles are the best example of that.

But - it's what they've made of us that I have a problem with. The idea that they – or the ones calling – are more important than what's happening to me now, in this vicinity, on this road, with this person, at this time, doing this particular thing – now. For some (a lot of) people, what they are doing, what they've chosen to do & who they've chosen to be with takes second place to someone else, simply because the other person has chosen now to talk to them. And the chances are, the reason they are calling isn't that urgent/compelling or interesting: “I just wanted to say Hi”

Another Example:

Straight road (yes, it's another driving story) and a left hand junction coming up – a car is waiting to pull out. Tho, rather than doing that, it comes.

I'm not that close that I have to brake hard so not too bothered until the car appears to take it's fair time accelerating (actually “accelerating” is an exaggeration). So much so (or so little) that I do have to slam the anchors on . . .

So I manage to pass her (yes, the driver is female but, again, this isn't a rant about them) and, sure enough, I see a mobile in her right hand! Which explains everything: she only had one hand to control the steering, change gear and brush her hair back or wipe that smudge of lipstick, why should I expect her to drive as well? Let alone the question of whether she actually noticed me approaching while she was so busy discussing the neighbours' shenanigans, the latest episode of Corry, or whether the baby needs more socks . . .

Oh, the baby. The one that was sitting in it's car-seat behind her (driver's side). The one that would have got a teeny bit . . . squished, if the gap was smaller or I hadn't braked. The baby was fine.

After all, he/she had a doting, caring mother didn't she? Wouldn't do anything to hurt her – would do anything to prevent her from getting hurt. Probably the sort that keeps her amused and assured by saying every five minutes (like a friend of ours does – altho maybe not a friend if she reads this): “Who's mummy's bestest girl?” (D'uh – I dont see anyone else here) and “Who's Mummy loves you den?” (Uh, is my name Den?) or: “Your Mummy loves you, doesn't she, yes she does”

- So much so that, rather than ignore the phone or buy a hands-free kit (shed loads on eBay <£20), she's willing to risk your life.

And, more importantly, mine