It’s official. I am O-L-D. My birthday isn’t until next month but I reached an even more disturbing benchmark the other night while having a drink and app with my brother.
My cell phone rang so I pulled up its crooked antenna and flipped it open. I couldn’t hear whose voice was on the other end because it was drowned out by hysterical laughter. Paul was laughing and pointing…at my phone. Laughing at the curve of the antenna, the fact that it even had a retractable antenna, laughing at its pathetic polyphonic ring tone and good God look at the size of that thing…it’s huge!
Paul took his cell phone out of his pocket. It was a sleek, silver Razr, the size of a stick of Trident gum. Its old school ring tone was perfectly ironic and digital. It takes pictures, is fully Web enabled and will do pretty much everything except mix you a martini and pick up after your dog.
"You need to do something about that," said Paul, still laughing and pointing.
The music hasn’t gotten too loud and I haven’t abandoned all sense of fashion yet but I have reached the first milestone. Apparently the cell phone is the first thing to go.