The Electronic Leash

It all began innocently enough, nearly 12 years ago. I decided that when my wife was nearing her due date to give birth to our son, that it would be a good idea to wear a digital pager. Not only would a pager be a convenience, but for a young professional, it was instant credibility. Now, I don't know who I was trying to kid, I was a young, professional laborer for a construction company, but having a pager, I was running with the lawyer crowd.

I don't remember when I relented and started carrying a cell phone. I really didnt want one because I knew that it really was an electronic leash. I no longer could disappear for an hour when the trip to the store should have taken 15 minutes. I no longer could claim that I forgot what time it was when I was playing cards with my buddies, or staying late at rehearsal. Mind you, things have gotten better, but I am still like Pavlov's dog, in that if the damn thing rings, I am compelled to answer it.

Which bings me to today...

I lost my phone two days ago. I searched the entire house. I looked in my truck. At least 5 times. My son helped me look. My daughter helped me look. The good people at the grocery store and the Bobcat dealership have my phone number in case it shows up.

So I went to the Verizon store in the local mall. Jonathon was a bright looking lad, who expertly told me that I couldnt afford the phone that I really wanted. I explained that I wanted a simple phone that would remember telephone numbers, addresses, and link to my computer to sync to Outlook. He told me that I could have all of that for a mere $300.

If I wanted to take fuzzy pictures, useless movies, play GI Joe with the walkie talkie function, and walk around like one of the trailer trash junior high school girls that get carpal tunnel syndrome from all of the thumb work they do, texting their kewl dood friends, those options I could have for free because I was due for an upgrade.

I counted to 5- I didn't think I could make it all the way to 10- and told him to just get me a phone that was similar to what I had lost.

After a short time, we determined the model that I needed, and he graciously offered to throw in the leather carrying case with the phone. Then we got down to the business of making the change and updating my account.

I have never had a personal telephone account, but I understand that all you need is a social security number, and a credit card. To get the work done on a corporate account,

we needed the name of the company,

the name of the company bank,

the tax id number for the company,

the account id number,

a contact person at our bank, and finally,

the coup de grace, OUR BANK ACCOUNT number.

This was to simply replace a telephone, on an existing account, that pays Verizon Wireless literally thousands of dollars per year.

I asked young Jonathon why I had to produce all of this information, for an existing account. He apologized profusely, explaining that for some reason the computers a not linked or something.

The ads on TV claim that I can call Alaska from Arkansas, using the handy dandy walky talky, but the computer in the store cannot call up the required account info.

It gets funnier. All of the info except for the bank acount number, I had memorized, and gave to the now sweating Jonathon. When he asked for the Bank ID, I told him there was no way in the world that I could remeber that. He was trying to be helpful when he suggested that we could log on to the bank website, and get it from there. It really wasnt his fault. He was there to make a sale, and be helpful.

Calmly I told him that there was "no fucking way" that I would access the bank account number from any computer but my own.

I left without my phone, after spending an hour as the guest of Verizon Wireless. Whats worse, I left while considering actions that are a felony in the state of Ohio, all over a telephone that I didnt want in the first place.

Troubador