Look at that title. I’ll bet you’re thinking that I’ve got another what-do-you-mean-we-finished-the-whole-box-of-wine story.
But no. Not this time.
The Phantom Buzz? Just my most recent foray into things that didn't used to be a problem but are, now.
You see, set on “vibrate”, I imagine, several times a day, that I hear my cell phone beckoning me.
And nine times out of ten, I am wrong.
You turn your phone off at work, right? You set it to vibrate?
It all starts so innocently.
The cell phone as gateway drug. Sure, sure. First you’re just checking your phone, maybe using it as a clock or a way to take a picture of yourself working, but in no time there’s invitations, FaceBook events/updates, videos…
Hold on a second. You hear that? Lemme just check my phone real quick...
Nope. Sorry. Thought I heard it buzzing.
Where was I?
Oh, yes: I have been behaviorally conditioned by an inanimate object.
Of course, I don’t know why this should surprise me. More and more, if some electronic gadget isn’t buzzing, it’s lighting up, flashing, spinning, demanding that I stop what I’m doing and do something else…
OK. I have very little "spinning" going on presently, but mark my words, somewhere, something is spinning.
So I rebelled the other day. I turned it off this last weekend; and as a result, I missed two events: Gorilla Yogis (a grassroots yoga organization) practicing yoga at First Avenue (the same First Avenue featured in Prince’s “Purple Rain”) and a Drag Queen Beauty Contest at another location.
Spontaneous free-form yoga in a club where I once saw Motorhead?! Glitzed-out men with tweezed brows in sequined gowns? We will never know what kind of blog posts those would’ve been.
And so there you have it.
Bowing to my technological overlords, I return to the buzzing-beeping-booping sounds coming from my purse.
I know when I’ve been beaten.
Twice Hit. Many Times Shy.
11 hours ago