Conspiracy Theory

Miscommunication and dumb luck-Two of my favorite storytelling companions. These age old buddies are becoming an endangered species nowadays, what with the cell phone and all. Everyone has their conspiracy theories. Wanna hear one of mine? I believe cell phones were sent here by humorless aliens to ruin our fun and kill our best stories. Think about it. Gone are the days where you can tell a story about missing a rendezvous point, or getting lost, or misunderstanding a friend’s intention or being late for a wedding because you couldn’t find the church and you had no way to get in touch with anyone who could help you.

No you go to tell a great story about how you were being chased by hungry elephants and someone in your audience stops you mid sentence…Why didn’t you just call the zoo? Why didn’t you dial 911? Did you take a photo? Why wasn’t this posted on your facebook? And if you can somehow get past that party-pooper there will be someone else fact checking on their phone and hollering out that elephants are vegetarians-so what the heck was the danger anyway?

I have had so many times when I could have had a great story in my midst, but instead my cell phone sweeps in and saves the day. I'm sure you know the feeling. Flat tire? Call for help-no story there. Are you lost? Google directions-no story there. About to be embarrassed because you’ve bumped into an old boyfriend and you’ve forgotten his name? Fake a sneeze, turn around text your friend Michelle and voila, you’ve saved face, but alas another anecdote foiled.

At least I’m in my 30s so I have years and years of pre-technology stories to share. In fact I don’t even know if Mike and I would be married today if we had a cell phone back in 1995 when we ran out of gas on Route 3. We were in this big orange truck I think it belonged to his friend BJ…hang on let me text BJ and ask him….I’m back, yep it was BJ’s truck a 1984 Chevy pickup, and the gas gauge was broken. We were heading from my swinging bachelorette pad in Boston (aka my tiny bedroom in the apartment I shared with my parents, sister and six guinea pigs in Malden) to Mike’s place on the Cape. We were in the early days of dating, still getting to know each other. We were driving along the highway, (listening to a mixed tape I’m sure), when we ran out of gas. Mike managed to get us over to the shoulder and we sat there for a few moments. Now, if this had been 2011, we would have called someone to come help us…or better yet, maybe we would have just sent a text. Either way that would have been the end of the story. But we didn’t have a cell phone, so we made a decision. We hopped out of the truck and wandered down route 3 for about 2 miles, walked off an exit ramp and entered the town of Plymouth. Just two miles, sure, but did I mention it was about 95 degrees in the shade? Did you focus on the fact that we were walking on a highway in MASSACHUSETTS where drivers are nicknamed Massholes or a reason. Nonetheless, we arrived in Plymouth, got a gas can from the hardware store, filled it with gas and still had enough money to buy a heavenly Reese’s ice cream bar (hmm I wonder if they still make those? I’ll have to Google that when I’m done with this blog). We trudged back onto the highway, managed to get a ride from two women in a van-sure the van wreaked of freshly smoked weed- but who are we to turn down a free ride? Somehow it was actually a great experience. Mike thought it was cool that I was so laid back about the whole thing, and I thought it was gallant of him to use his last dollar to buy me an ice cream. We joke that this was the day that we knew we had a future together. This is something we might not have discovered if we could have just called someone for help.

I have so many great stories that could be instantly ruined by the introduction of the cell phone. There was the time my friend Jenn was supposed to get on the T at Oak Grove station and a friend and I would hop on that same train at Malden Station (one stop later), from there we would all ride the T into town (Boston). For some reason-and this has nothing to do with Jenn being, well, Jenn-when the train pulled up and the doors opened we got on using one set of doors only to see her get off using the other set. I can still see her confused face and her hands reaching for the glass as we streaked by heading into town. Where would we meet? Which stop were we getting off? Should we go back? Would she know how to find us if we didn’t? B-o-r-i-n-g if we had a cell, right? A quick text—meet us at Haymarket we’ll be standing by the bearded man who smells of urine, but sings a mean version of No Woman No Cry-well that would have ruined a classic story. Really, it would have.

As I sit here I can think of many, many, many stories that would have been ruined if we had a cell phone. And that’s just me. Think of the change in sitcoms, Laverne and Shirley? The Brady Bunch? Three’s Company? These guys would never make it now. The cell phone would ruin every single plot from those shows. And how about you? How many good stories are foiled because you can remedy things quickly and painlessly with your Droid?

And yes, the truth is in the real world I rely more on conveniences than great stories to get me through my day. I am the first person to nosedive into a panic attack as soon as my iPhone shows signs of low battery. Still, the storyteller in me can’t help but wonder how much laughter has been lost to this mega-invention. I don’t think there’s an app. for that-at least not yet.