Life tough with no cell phone

Justin Harris

They say you never know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

For the past week, that statement especially has rung true for me.

Last week, after dropping my cell phone, it stopped working. No calls, no text messaging, nothing.

At first, I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’d just use my dorm phone and phones at work until the phone I ordered arrived. No problem, right?

Wrong.

And soon after I was phoneless, the withdrawal began.

If someone had asked me before my phone was broken if I could live without it, I would have said, “Of course.” But I soon realized that wasn’t the case.

I was constantly checking my pocket, feeling phantom vibrations from text messages and calls I wasn’t getting and wondering if I was missing any important calls from home or work.

After about a day with no phone, I admit I felt incomplete, as if a part of me was missing. I had become so accustomed to my cell sitting in my front right pocket that its absence, even for a day, was painfully noticeable.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not someone who spends the entire day on the phone. In fact, I hardly ever use up my monthly quota of minutes. However, my cell phone is essentially my sole means of communication at college.

Sure, I have a dorm phone, but it can’t make calls outside of the 517 area code, rendering it fairly useless. And yes, I can use phones at work, but not for personal calls.

More often than not, I was forced to use my roommate’s or my girlfriend’s phone to make calls. I felt like a child again, dependent on others’ permission to use the phone. Having my own cell phone created a level of independence that was glaringly apparent once it was gone.

Until now, I hadn’t realized how instrumental my cell phone was in day-to-day communication. And I’m not alone in my dependency.

According to a Harris Interactive study released last week, almost 89 percent of American adults own a cell phone, which is about a 12 percent increase since the end of 2006. Additionally, one-third of 18- to 29-year-olds only use a cell phone. Cell phones quickly are becoming the dominant form of phone communication in the U.S., especially among younger demographics.

I will admit that not having a phone on me at all times was sometimes a relief. While I did worry if I was missing any work assignments, it was nice not having to field calls from my mother asking how I’m doing for the 100th time. And there was the occasional appreciation of peace and quiet that comes with being disconnected from the rest of the world.

But these moments were few and far between.

For the most part, I was stressed from not having a working phone when and where I needed it.

Not to mention the fact that I don’t actually know my friends’ and family members’ phone numbers.

When my phone died it took all of my contact information with it. Even if I could make a call, I wouldn’t be able to contact about 90 percent of the people I talk to regularly because I hadn’t taken the time to memorize their numbers.

If there’s one thing I will change when I get my new phone, it’ll be to back up my address book. I don’t want to be the guy who has to ask for everyone’s number again via Facebook.com.

Needless to say, when I got my new phone Tuesday, I was relieved and happy. I once again could make calls to people outside the Lansing area and could receive calls from people other than work contacts. I never thought I’d be that happy to see my cell phone, but the weeklong separation only made us closer.

I now plan on completely and totally feeding my cell phone dependency. Even with my newfound realization that I need this small piece of technology with me everywhere I go, I have no plans to reduce my attachment.

With my phone at home in my jeans pocket, I can once again function at full capacity, calling and text messaging at will.

I just can’t drop my phone ever again. I don’t think I could take it.

Justin Harris is a State News staff writer. Reach him at harri763@msu.edu.

Published on Wednesday, April 9, 2008