I was heartened to learn that author Ann Patchett does not use a cell phone. I do, but rarely. People watching is so much more interesting. One Sunday in September I was breakfasting in a self-serve restaurant in Freeport, Maine, sitting across from a father and young daughter, most likely a divorced dad who had his daughter for the weekend. After getting her some pancakes, the father proceeded to bury himself in his cell phone. The daughter, too young for a cell phone, was bored and stared around the room absently, but without protest. As I watched, the dad said not one word to her. I wanted to walk over, throttle him, and shout: Speak to your daughter!
Later that morning I sat outside an LLBean dressing room while my husband tried on pants. A mother and her teenaged daughter sat across from me, both absorbed in their cell phones. Each, evidently, found something of interest because at one point they exchanged cell phones. Then the mom made a quick call, presumably to the family member in the dressing room. Eventually a teenaged boy emerged and followed the two women away from the waiting area—immersed in his cell phone.
Technology is supposed to make our lives easier, not swallow them.