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There’s a song called “Good God Man How Big a Car Do You Need?” on my “Spotted Mule and Other Tales” CD that raves about big cars and how the people who drive them can’t park. Soon after recording the song, I bought a big truck and camper. Anyone who knows me knows that the notion of purchasing a vehicle with a V-8 engine was a major life decision. I fretted and obsessed over it, gave in, felt like a hypocrite, but then finally settled into my own rationale that “it’s not an everyday car, and we’ll mainly use it for traveling”.
Yesterday I heard my new ranting song about cell phones, “Hang It Up”, on KPIG radio. And I just happened to be in my car. Wearing one of those blinky Bluetooth headsets. I’ve had a problem with these since Day 1. People wandering the aisles of the grocery store, talking to thin air, blinking blue light attached to their heads, and engaged in an important conversation about what kind of milk to buy.
(My favorite annecdote is when a guy pulled up to me in a parking lot, stared me in the face and asked, “Am I at the right building?” I tried to answer him and then eventually realized that he was on the phone. And he acted like I was being the rude one when I interrupted his conversation. Ah well.)
I get even more self-righteous when we approach the whole “yammering on the phone in the car” scenario. For the longest time I sat proudly in the saddle on my high horse, declaring to the world “NO ONE REALLY NEEDS TO TALK ON THEIR PHONE IN THE CAR!”. Then my old cell phone died. And I got a new one. With Bluetooth capability. And then the hands-free law went into effect on July 1st.
So I gave in and conformed. Again. And yes, I’m a big hypocrite. But just a little. And only in the car. And yeah, I gotta admit, the stupid little things are pretty convenient.
Promise me this, though: If you ever see me wandering the aisles of a Safeway, yammering incessantly about what kind of bread to buy, and there’s a flashing blue light on the side of my head, point your finger at me in utter disgust. That kind of keeps me on track.