Independence Day!

my phone is.... not the boss of me... 

The human bond...that is what I need.

On this day we recognize the sacrifice of freedom. I say thank you to the brave men and women that gave the ultimate sacrifice, their lives, so we may know freedom. 

Happy Independence Day!


(and yes, like the battle for our independence, I will be dropping bombs...knowledge bombs!)

Independence Day!

Today July 3, 2012 at 11:00 am EST, I have turned off my cell phone...I will turn it back on when I have some time to kill. When I am bored. Or need to call 911. Or when I go back to work next Monday...I do not need it. It is not the boss of me. I am on a Phoncation...  A phoncation...not to be confused with Phonication...

Phoncation... Turning off or powering down your cell phone for more than a re-boot. Not to be confused with your battery dying. This is a VOLUNTARY reflex. Turning off the cell world and turning on the real. (BTW, this is currently under review at Urban dictionary.com if accepted, tUcKeR will get the credit)


Phonication... Duh...AKA sexting...AKA phone sex.

Mebbe  my phone is the boss of me...But I do not have to let it!

anywhat...

tUcKeR and I have been busy lately. 

Busy doing stuff...

Dog stuff, you know...

sniffin', sleepin', chewin', and playin'...

and we are getting ready for a trip to go fishin', so the boat needs to be done up just right. We leave in less than two weeks. I know, it sucks to be us... 

If I figure out the fecesbook on my stupidphone, with all its stupidtechnogeekybullshit, we may post a few random atrocities and fishin' lies stories and pics...

Or we may not...who knows? 
I would not count on it...

My phone is not the boss of me...

Independence Day!

It has been hot. we are living like shut-ins...We did have a small foray into the world the other day. Turns out the Chase Bank Branch near my house is Dog -friendly! 
And you know who is a fan fav?

not just me and my ugly shirts... 

Everyone. 

luvs. 

tUcKeR...

I know, right?

They even sent us a card...(actually 2, but who is counting...)

That really makes us feel good...

You know what does not make us feel good? Aside from hot sticky weather? 

Losing the phonefaceoff to text convos...

The following story is Mebbe... true...

Every story has basis in fact...

I like to drink. 

A lot.  This is true. No bullshit!

I have my watering holes, and they are few but good. 

Just like fishin' holes. A sweet spot, where the world makes sense. 

These are facts. True life things.

Sometimes, I go out for beers. It is a damn good thing. Drinking with a buddy. Talking the shit that we always do. 

Many subjects...

Most of them are bunches of bullshit, like winning the lotto...But the conversation is real. 

There is no auto complete, or auto correct. I do not have to pay to be at the top of the list. I am not being Googled/Binged/spammed/phished nor am i being deadheaded/cyberstalked/dinked/dorked/diddled or fucked. 

I just am.

(Get this. Googled is not in the Google Chrome dictionary. I would think by default these self-important assclowns would have WRITTEN that phrase in the Google-html-or-what-the-fuck-ever-code...)

digression...sorry...

Although with some people, that you have known for eternity, the completion of a sentence happens occasionally. Cuz the internet, people, mimics the real world. Not the other way around. It may be that the internet was created by humans, but it is not human.

We are NOT God. Virtually or otherwise...

As we speak the conversation ebbs and flows. It gives and takes. It is real. Two humans talking to each other. (sometimes it is me talking to myself, as well, but we will not go there now. the voices are quiet now. it is good)

Just as it used to be. 

You know, waaaaaaay back when cell minutes were ridiculously priced and only the Wall Street YUPPIES and Look-at-me-er's carried giant cell phones that could not even take a 3 meg-pixel picture of your junk, let alone send it to every tom, dick, or harry via text or email. 

When twitter was the goofy flight of a drunken bird or some such similar non-sense...Way back when if you wanted to see your wife's/GF's titties, you had do your best Greg Brady. You had to make a move.

These people with bag phones, these douchbaglookatme-er's also had pagers. And were tied virtually to the machine, the office, the man, or whatever god-money they we beholden to... 

 I  laughed at them. 

Yes, I was younger then... I had less experience. The world was different.

I  had not tasted the sickly-sweet cell smartacity... The world was free. You and I, back then, we were beholden to no one. Able to disappear to the lake or golf course with impunity.  We did not carry our mini- computers everywhere.  We could disappear. 


I did disappear for days. 
jus' sayin'

We did not get a text from some transposing twittering twinkie at three am asking us:

*wehre ther fukc u at?*

And you know what?

We did not die. We did not become so lonely and forsaken that we killed ourselves. Or others. We survived. Adapted.  Improvised. 

More so, We flourished. 

We wrote letters! 

We talked. To each other. Face-to-face. 

I looked forward to seeing you! You looked forward to seeing me! It was anticipated.

Back to the story...


We are talking. Bantering back and forth. The usual.

The phone on the table vibrates.

beckoning.

a siren song.

it.

cannot.

be. 

ignored...

i am speaking.

It is prolly just a bunch of bullshit, but it is face to face...

He looks at his phone. She has texted him, in the middle of a conversation...

He picks it up and then texts back...


phonefaceoff loss...


to a text. where the fuck is my samurai sword? i must fall on it now!

Then he looks at me, distracted and says, 
"What were you saying?" 

No sorry.

No explanation.

fuck me freddy...

It is not just one person that does this to me. 

It is several people. I know so many people that let the phone rule the reality of everyday life. We see it everywhere. It is not just distracted driving, it is distracted living. If you can call living like this living... 

Is it really?

I know there are those that will argue it is better this way. I am not calling for being nuked to the stone-age. I am not calling for a phone burning. Cellphones are not the devil, bobby-bouche... they are not evil, or witchery.  

We are PavlovianPhonian(s).  (also submitted to UD.com) We just have to answer it. 


We all do...

The sirensongsmartphone...it fucking sucks!

We are losing it people. We are in touch but not touching. 

Back to the story. In this case, it is about sex.

On numerous occasions I have said, "Dude? Really? I am right here..."

My voice lost among the cacophony of cell waves...Undulating, underlying vibrations set to some distant dance beat drums of the new reality... 

beckoning... 

she. is. his. everything. 

love is like that...

sex is even more like that...


Distantly I hear the sound of a whip being cracked...

i open a dialog with myself.  the phone will not interrupt this conversation. yeah, it may be one-sided, but... 

*funny how sex changes things. not just for the participants, but the world at large. the things people do for sex...virtually and reality sex is becoming dangerously intertwined as one.* 

A cornucopia of copulation set to a symphony of cell-phones...

Out loud I say..

"For the record. 

I will never send a picture of my junk via text. 

or email.

Never.

Ever.

Never..."

*well... at least not in a sober state.*

*Note to self:

yet another reason to quit drinking so much...

nah...fuck that...*

Then I drop more wisdom.

"junktextin' = jexting...

drunktextin' = drexting...

jus sayin'..."

*i am in control of my camera. it does not control me.

a mantra...my phone is not the boss of me...

rinse. lather. repeat.*

I expound with more knowledge/truth-bombs. 
"The world is so connected yet so distant..."

*whatever.*

I look over and his phone vibrates again. This time he tries to ignore it, but to no avail.

Independence Day!

I no longer have my phone ringer on when I am with another human. If I have it with me, I set it face down on the table, cuz the lights and vibration distract me from the real person in front of me. 

Often , I leave it in the other room. Alone. ON PURPOSE! I go to the store without it! I do not miss it! And it does not miss me. 


Cuz it is not HUMAN! It is a fuckingphone!

I do not answer it after 5pm, I let it go to Voice Mail. If it is important I can call back at a time when it works for me... 

I may even chose to totally ignore your voice-mail. I may never respond. I can do that. I can be that cold. I do not need to respond to every goddamn sirensongbeckoning... 

It is important to be connected. 

Yes it is.

To a human. To the flesh. To the real.

Independence Day!

Yesterday...

The phone rings.

More correctly vibrates. I pick it up and I look at it. 

I do not know the number. It goes to voice-mail. 

I may check it. I may not.

I may respond. I may not.

I still have the choice...

Independence Day!

Today...

I Choose life.

Choose those in front of you.

Choose the real...

Independence Day!

I do know this... 

On my death bed I will not say... Geez, I wish I had sent one more text, instead of talking face to face with my friends...

as tUcKeR likes to say!

"Peace out and nap strong!"

Just another Independence Day! In Paradise!

Just Another Dog In Puppydise!