By Emily Rosen
Hieroglyphics, quills, couriers, Pony Express, Gutenberg’s printer, U.S. Mail, telephone, e-mail, social media and, finally smartphones, texting and who knows what in the next five minutes. Oh, how our ability to remain in contact with each other has evolved. We are currently at what one might call the most sophisticated era of human communication and, yet, our abundance of choices has in a way confounded us with obstacles. Whenever people have so many options, it becomes evident that one size does not fit all and, with people personalizing their preferences, the door is opened for missed connections or over-connections.
I have friends whose sole mode of communication is texting. I rarely text, and, therefore, often forget to check for text messages. This morning, I found one that had an urgency that defied its origin. Why didn’t she CALL me with that message? Because “she” is so totally into text messaging that the possibility of using a telephone had eluded her. I, on the other hand, have so adapted to hourly e-mailing that I lose sight of the fact that some people I know routinely open their emails less frequently even than once a week. So much for the written word.
As for the spoken word, I am somewhat telephone averse. I use it only when I have no other option or when I need to transmit a specific message and over and out. I reserve telephone “visits” for those people outside the geography of visiting availability. I often make a telephone date ahead of time and am prepared to “sit on the phone,” an activity for which I have very little patience except in such cases.
Also, I note that smartphone users have a tendency to react to every signal they get like Pavlov’s dog. They get notified of a text message and – boom! – immediate response. In the middle of a social event when their email signal rings – oops, their eyes focus in like headlights. Granted, some of it is business related, but tell me — puleeze! — how did so many businesses flourish BEFORE they could connect 24/7?
Then there’s Facebook and Twitter and the like, and the competition for more and more “likes” and “friends,” and the inane postings about minute-by-minute activities … good for PhD theses on motivation, addiction and emotional neediness, as well as effectiveness of its marketing component.
OK. So here’s my case. If you call me on my cell when I’m out of the house, I’m not likely to rush to answer you unless we are meeting that day and I anticipate a possible emergency change of plans. Text me, and it’s Russian Roulette as to when I respond. E-mail me when I’m out of the house, and, if I happen to have a very l-o-on- g red light, I may check the message. Yes, you’ll get me on my cell phone if I am out of town, and you’ll surely get the real me on my house phone (unless I’m checking caller I.D. and avoiding you deliberately – ah, but why would I? (If you’re reading this column, I’m loving you) or my home computer, which is your best bet.
What? You don’t want to reach me by any method?
Is that a definite — or can we talk?
