My phone isn’t working. And even though I have no one to call, and doubt any one would be calling me today, I’m feeling slightly isolated from the rest of the world. Here I am, at home with my dog, with no immediate connection to the outside world. Sure, I could go outside and shout, and that, I suppose, would be a sort of connecting. Or I could drive somewhere and talk to someone. But that’s not entirely immediate, now is it? Neither is email. What concerns me most in times like this is the unlikely event of an emergency. The phone is my Emergency Broadcast System, my Code Red. What if something happened to someone, what if they needed me right now?
What if someone is trying to call me right this very minute?
The possibilities frighten me.
I’m not one who’s entered the world of gadgetry–cell phones and pagers and palm pilots and whatever they call those things that are combinations of all the above–it just doesn’t seem like anything’s quite important enough for anyone to have immediate access all the time. Besides, there are all kinds of features on those things that I’d never master. And then I’d feel somehow cheated, like I wasn’t getting my money’s worth.
So maybe I’ve just talked myself into relaxing a little. Maybe I’m not altogether alone. Maybe no one’s trying to get in touch with me right now. Maybe I should just enjoy the silence, the sound of the phone not ringing.