Writer's Block

Recently, I have been suffering from writer's block. This is due to the fact that Mr. Big has been out of town and the rest of "thinking heads" (senior staff) have been occupied with upcoming deployments. Therefore, work has been surprisingly normal. I've supplied you with something that should make you smile. I discovered this story and it is worth sharing.


One summer day years ago, I pulled over to the side of the highway, got out of my truck and threw my cell phone as far as I could into D C Reservoir.

Note: I realize that introducing a cell phone battery into a body of water is ecologically unsound. However, please understand that I was in a rage at the time and, furthermore, today I still don't care. But I promise not to do it again.

Ditching my phone remains in my Top Ten Favorite Memories. I still get a shiver of pleasure when I recall that it was ringing when it hit the water.

The call may have been an emergency of some sort. We'll never know for sure because nothing developed later that suggested my immediate attention was required at that moment.

I bought the phone believing it would give me more freedom. I was the editor of a small newspaper at the time. With the ability to be called anywhere, I wouldn't be chained to a desk.

What an idiot. Having a cell phone on my hip was like taking my desk with me everywhere I went, including to the bathroom.

Within a matter of days, the entire world was calling with important stuff I needed to know about right then. Here's a sampling:

"Some guy wants you to call him."

"The copier is jammed again."

"Hey, whatcha doing?"

"Bring me some nachos."

"Mr. K, would you be interested in a comparison quote ...?"

I was on my way to H City when I hit my limit. Ring. Ring. Ring. SCREEEECH! Slam. Throw. Kerplunk!

The rest of the week was spent in blissful silence. If my cell phone rang during that time, only fish knew about it.

I wish it had been a matter of simply turning off the phone and picking up my messages later, but that didn't really work for me. First of all, I didn't want to call everyone back. Second, I resented the growing expectation that I had to be immediately available to whoever had my number.

"Well, I called your cell phone," was the accusatory response whenever someone wanted my attention.

I have a cell phone today. I bought another one when my wife got cancer. They're handy, but I'm not going to become another OCD (obsessive communication dork) who can't imagine life without tweeting, twittering and texting.

Prediction: Fifty years from now, the No. 1 medical procedure performed in America will be thumb knuckle replacement surgery.

Yesterday, someone was annoyed that I hadn't received a text message that a meeting had been canceled. When I told him that I didn't have a Whackberry and wasn't going to get one, he was incredulous. He looked at me like I was a caveman.

My friend said his electronic tumor only cost a couple of hundred bucks up front, and another hundred a month for the service. He felt like it was a small price to pay for being instantly available.

I still feel like it's a lot of money just to give fish something to do.

written by R K