The Smart Phone-omenon

Back in the late ’80s and early ’90s, it seemed only self-absorbed, rich jerks like Gordon Gekko from “Wall Street” used (and could afford) mobile phones. Now that all of us can, it seems many have also adopted Gekko’s personality.

The “Smart Phone-omenon,” as I call it, is more about behavior and less about technology.  There are plenty of good things about smart phones.

1. They keep us in touch with our loved ones.
2. They provide a added level of safety during travel.
3. Equipped with GPS, they get us from A to B.
4. We can play Angry Birds and send snarky texts during boring business meetings if nobody important is seated behind us.

Now, the not-so good thing about smart phones.

1. They have fallen into human hands.

We human beings have a really annoying habit of taking a good thing and mucking it up.  In this case, the Smart Phone-omenon is based on the false perception of affluence.  For those of you old enough to remember, cell phones — back before they were all that smart  — were once a big hairy deal.  They were either installed in some fancy car or, if mobile, were the size of a microwave oven.  Gordon Gecko and other CEO-types in custom-tailored suits had them.  High-dollar real estate agents were next in line.  For a few years, cell phones were right up there with BMWs, Gucci bags, and hot tubs as the status symbols of the day.  For people like me who are still not entirely comfortable with a cordless home phone, the concept of driving around talking on the phone was ludicrous.  (My idea of a car phone was one of those pay phones you could drive up to and use without getting out.)  When phones became free of the tether of a vehicle and you could actually walk in nature talking on one, now…  That was just crazy talk.

And then, as we approached the mid- and late-’90s, Motorola (or some other company) figured out how to make some vital component cheaper and, next thing you know, practically everybody had cells phones.  They achieved the capitalistic and marketing coup of something previously reserved only for the “jet set” now made available for the masses.

Cue the problems.

Suddenly, anybody could walk around acting like a ostentatious, self-absorbed big shot.  They could stroll through grocery stores carrying on seemingly high-powered, ground-breaking discourses while ignoring the lowly peons who dared share the same floor space.  While chatting away, they could pay the grocery clerk without extending the common courtesy of eye contact, let alone a “thank you” or “have a great day.”  They could shuffle across parking lot pedestrian crossings at roughly the same pace as a sea sponge, grinding traffic to a halt in total oblivion and with disregard for anything resembling manners, because they were engaged in a radically important, world-altering conversation on (what they wanted you to believe was) a wildly expensive communications device.

This is how rich people are supposed to behave, they reasoned.  Indifferent.  Apathetic.  Entitled.  I am clearly carrying a mobile phone, so the world must bend to my will.  Is it not obvious that this is the conversation of a rock star and must not be disturbed?

What people haven’t seemed to realize over the decade or so that smart phones have been on the scene is this:  We all have one, so we aren’t impressed with yours!  Nor are we fascinated by your conversation!

Don’t believe there’s a smart phone-omenon?  Imagine all mobile phones immediately vanished.  What would the folks who can’t afford BMWs or Gucci bags be carrying into Kroger or the mall to display their (non-existent) affluence and prestige?  That’s right — nothing.  They would be behaving as themselves, and just possibly, the way that salt-of-the-earth people once acted — with caring, civility, and genuine  interest toward one another.

The basic problem, as I see it, is that many lower- and middle-income people believe that all upper income behave approximately like Lindsay Lohan.  Maybe if we act like Lindsay Lohan, we’ll somehow attain Lindsay Lohan’s (perceived) wealth!  Hmmm.  Let’s see.  What do we have in common?  Okay, we’re both human and we both have a smart phone.  That’ll do!

If that’s not bad enough, it seems the Smart Phone-omenon is expanding its reach.  The same sense of entitlement and inconsideration now extends into other aspects of our culture, like the act of driving to the front of a long line of traffic and then cutting in at the front, or not thanking or even acknowledging someone who holds a door for you.

You get my point.  So here are my suggestions.

1. Limit phone calls in public places to need-only.  Reviewing of the Thanksgiving grocery list? Good.  Recapping last night’s episode of “Nashville”? Bad.
2. If you must talk in public, find a less busy corner and lower your voice.  Consider the possibility that the total strangers walking past may not be that interested in the mundane details of your day at the hair salon.
3. Consider the person standing before you priority over the one on the phone.  Make eye contact and be pleasant, for God’s sake.  You can call your buddy back in the car.
4. The world doesn’t owe you anything — get over yourself.  While you’re at it, get the chip off your shoulder.  Try smiling, saying hello, holding a door, letting someone in in traffic.  This isn’t a sign of weakness or — even worse — a show of disrespect towards you.  If you want respect, try earning it.
5. Enjoy your smart phone and recognize it for the miracle of technology that it is.  But remember that regardless of the technology, the world is still populated by living, breathing human beings, and you have the power to either improve their day or darken it, if only a little.