By Hank F. Miller Jr.
The whole world is going to hell in a hand basket, and Japan is leading the way.
That is if, like me, you equate hell with the use of cell phones.
Now I think I am a progressive-minded guy.
In most cases I cannot resist new gadgetry and my home is a miniature showcase of other high-tech innovations such as a battery charged nose-hair clipper, a Homer Simpson talking bottle opener and a rubber fish that can sing.
Most of this junk here my kids brought home but I claim responsibility for a few of these junky items that are too numerous to mention.
I have not popped for those quite robot dogs, but only because space in my house is at a premium and I am waiting for Sony to develop a more petite animal that will better match my living quarters. Like perhaps a robot worm or a clam that can play country music.
And neither have I purchased the leash that is a cellular phone. Nor I hereby vow on a gnawed \”yakitory\” Meat on sticks which we eat here-Will I ever.
Yet to be honest, I do not live in an entirely cell-phone free environment. My wife has one of the wicked devices snoozing by her bedside each night.
I can borrow it whenever I want which to my way of thinking would be like borrowing a live grenade. Why would I ever do that?
For I deem such contraptions to be an affront to my senses. And while I know the entire world is now engrossed and dependent on mobile phones, I am betting that nowhere is that addiction as rabid as in gizmo-manic Japan.
Step out any Japanese door and one will see what dots each and every street in this nation, People.
Yet now these flowing minions are highlighted by genuine walkie-talkies, fast-moving individuals who yackety-yak while they stride blindly forward.\”What was that crash?\”Screams a squeaky cellular friend.\”Oh, that I walked into a bus. But no matter. I can still hear you. Keep talking!\”
Or glance in any train car and one finds many passengers no longer absorbed in books and newspapers. Rather they sit transfixed as they flick their cell phones open and closed, as if their focus were drawn by some ghostly inner voice the hauntingly commands, \”If you watch it, they will call.\”
Or stake out any university classroom. When the bell rings and the students come pouring out, each will in turn flip open, not unlike Roman foot soldiers unsheathing their blades for combat.\”We came, \”goes the motto, \”we saw, we telephoned.\”
Of course the sounds are as bad as the sights. It\’s jarring enough when the stranger besides you suddenly begins to blob and babble into thin air-\”Hey, Taro! How\’s life? Me, Well, I\’m walking next to some runty foreigner and we just passed some gal lying under a bus\”-but at times the content too can be riveting.
A la\”: \”Listen! I don\’t care what your brother called you; you let him out of the closet now!\” From nowhere comes a loud tune.
Everyone plays tag with their eyes and then all recognize the song at the very same instant. It\’s the enchanting theme to \”Popeye.\”
No less than three people tear into their bags after their phones, only one of which is piping out the music.
While that person answers, the other two ponder some other cool song to use as a ring program. Odds are they will again pick the very same thing, this time perhaps the classic notes of \”Camp town Races.\”A more recent feature has been added and built into many phones.
Now when I nap on the train, I worry over how many Japanese have just taken my picture and have just e-mailed a secret shot of the snoring \”gaijin\”=foreigner with his mouth wide open.
Embarrassing, I admit but I\’ve done the same thing with my nose hair clippers. That\’s one reason I prefer my rubber fish; it\’s far more user friendly. As for the talking bottle opener, I fear Homer Simpson may be affecting my brain worse than phone radiation.\”You know,\” my wife says, \”this phone technology will not disappear. You\’ll just have to get used to it someday.\”She says I should have a cellular phone; they\’re very useful in an emergency.
\”I said to her I don\’t expect any emergencies at this time and besides, you have one if needed, No thank you.\”
So? I have to die someday too. And I prefer to meet that day with dignity. Which-to my way of thinking-means living my life without a cellular phone and free of all the interruptions in my daily routine?
Warm Regards from Kitakyushu City, Japan
Hank F. Miller Jr
Related: When East meets West