The Middle-Aged, The Elderly, and Their Cell Phones

In order to make up for missing a week, I am posting two blogs this time. As noted in the title, the subject of this blog is, “The Middle Aged, The Elderly, and Their Cell Phones.” My current research consists of information obtained firsthand from crowded metros, buses, public areas, and my mother. We now move to the scene of an observation.

Behold! The middle-aged woman gazes out the window of a full public transportation bus. She seems to be engrossed in observing the passing of various buildings. Suddenly, a deafening noise blasts throughout the entire bus, shattering windows and resetting pacemakers. All the passengers look around in horror, trying to discern the source of this awful racket. Eventually, they realize that this sonic boom is proceeding from the oversized handbag of the middle-aged woman, who, unobserving, continues to stare out the window. The passengers take turns covertly glaring at her. After about 18-20 minutes of this, when complete hearing loss is becoming a realistic possibility, the middle-aged woman begins to have…thoughts…awarenesses one might say. They begin to dawn visibly upon her face and she becomes confused. Perhaps she is thinking, “I have a ringing sensation in my ears and I feel rather dizzy. Maybe some sort of noise is happening around me.” Being sensible, however, she brushes this off as an unrealistic option, but the nagging thought persists. As if lightning has struck through the roof of the bus, directly into her head, the woman has two rapid and consecutive thoughts—“What if that noise is a cell phone?” and “My word! I have a cell phone—what if it’s mine?!” For the middle-aged woman, these thoughts often prompt a course of action. She becomes flustered and begins fishing around in her purse, which, unfortunately, is the size of the island of Aruba.

In many cases, she triumphantly reaches the desired object and holds it at arms length. Soon we observe confusion settling over the countenance of the middle-aged woman. “I’m not sure what to do next,” she thinks. There is some kind of international secret code running across the screen of her mobile phone and she unsure how to decipher such complex symbols. [It should be noted that, at this point, most of the other passengers are quite sure of how to decipher the code and are annoyed that she can’t find the “Silence ringer” button.] The middle-aged woman does not worry about such frivolous technological advances that will allow her to silence her cellphone and it’s overbearing rendition of “Ode to Joy.” She is solving a puzzle! Abruptly, a thought penetrates through the shroud of mystery, “Oh Mylanta! These are numbers! NUMBERS! And Good Lord! They seem to be familiar! But why is Susan Smith’s name written on this little screen?” When the middle-aged woman realizes that not only does she recognize the number on the screen, but that it actually belongs to Susan Smith, her oldest friend, the proceeding events happen in rapid succession. First, she locates the button to answer the call and presses it firmly. Then she happily engages in a call with Susan at a loud volume which is only slightly less annoying than the midi version of “Ode to Joy” her fellow passengers had previously been subjected to. Triumphant, the middle-age woman continues throughout her day until the next time she receives a call. Oh eternal mystery!

*Author’s note: the author would like to say that this academic writing represents the characteristics of several women she has observed. She would also like to tip her hat to the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of women who are older and equally, if not more, technologically savvy than herself.