Fumble

Mood: Ragin

I dropped my cell phone today. In the pisser. Now I'm utterly hooped in the world of telecommunications.

Perhaps there are some that are sitting idly by and laughing at me, a guy who once reamed the collective cell phone/pager universe for being utterly dependent on something that, in the past, much of humanity got by quite happily without.

Well, here I am. A slobbering, incoherent heap of a man. I have no land line and now I have no cell either, making me — in this day and age of uber-communication — essentially Nothing Man.

While those in the capable financial bracket grasp their Blackberries and Sidekicks and do everything they could possibly need to in a day, aside from laundry, here I am lamenting the loss of what was a significantly out-of-date cell phone.

A number of years ago I scoffed at those who went for the cellies and the two-ways, asserting that answering machines and land lines were really all that was necessary. I don't differ from that opinion too much now, despite the fact I succumbed to the unrelenting force that has overcome many a 13-year-old and the parents that watch over them.

Now I'm sitting here phoneless and realizing how difficult life can be, in the communciations world. I went to Radio Shack, the retailer that sold me the phone and the life-jacket-like activation contract that I am currently victim to, and the much-informed gentleman there told me my basic options were a) pay through the ass or b)pay through some other painful orifice. There really wasn't a Plan C where I'm allowed to replace my phone or get any kind of non-cost-heavy option. This, I found, one year after buying the piece of crap I never thought necessary, is where they kill me.

I'm constantly aware of trying to find loopholes and sucker spots for people trying to sell me things. I am aware of commission and hot items that are pushed on the unsuspecting public. But cell phones were a foreign land to me, as if reading medicine bottles in Cantonese. Perhaps I jumped when I should have juked, been more cautious on my purchase a year ago rather than taking what the seller sold me at their word.

Nevertheless, the point I see here is this: What in God's name are we doing with the cell phone world? Do we realize how utterly at the whim of these companies we are? I didn't and I'm sure others don't either. To try and repair my phone it would cost upwards of $200, and to replace it, basically the same.

The thought that our technology over the last, say, 20 years has advanced so rapidly that those chihuahua-sized numbers that Zack Morris rocked back in the day are now a humourous, yet nostalgic, footnote is one thing. But you would hope that technology has advanced to the point where dropping a phone in water, or for that matter any other liquid other than hyrdochloric acid, would not leave it utterly useless to the person who bought into the nonsensical contract in the first place.

And, aye, there's the rub. It doesn't matter what logic says. The cell phone companies — Rogers in particular — are booming off the idiocy of people like me and the parents that buy phones for their much-too-young kids or the much-too-young kids blowing their allowance just so they can be in-line with Trinity or Sienna or whatever nouveau-chic name is populating pre-teens these days. They know, down the line, you're going to screw up.

So here I am, 29, and feeling like a completely useless sod because I don't have a cell phone, a technology that I once vehemently rallied against. I'm angrier than I have been in months. Cursing the phone, cursing my stupidity and, even louder, cursing the jackasses that have me by the eggs.

I'm not sure who I'm madder at.

Other Notes:

•Went golfing today which takes the tinge off the utterly awful day that I did have. Shot 96, which isn't anything remotely good, but I went 43 on the front and I won't cough at that. Although I was angry through the entire round.

• The "A.C." in A.C. Slater stood for Albert Clifford.

• Beat of the Day might be discontinued if only for the fact there aren't a lot of places online I can produce beats. If you know of any, please fire them off.

• Wanda Sykes is on The Daily Show right now and she has a funny voice. She's pretty funny. Which leads me to...

• Female stand-ups are NOT funny. Paula Poundstone and Ellen Degeneris both did their thing but, lets be honest, name me a legitimately funny female stand-up. Show me one of those and I'll show you a hack.

• I freestyle when I'm asked.

• The Brandon Wheat Kings had no hope if they had made it to the Memorial Cup.

• The theme to Welcome Back Kotter, was one of, if not the best, sitcom themes of all time.

Lyric of the day:
In 1995, you'll twist to this
As you raise your fist to the music
United we stand, yes divided we fall
Together we can stand tall
Brothers that try to work it out
They get mad, revolt, revise, realize
They're super bad
Small chance a smart brother's
Gonna be a victim of his own circumstance
Sabotaged, Shellshocked, rocked and ruled
Day in the life of a fool
Public Enemy, Brothers Gonna Work it Out