CELLPHUN SLAVES

Ahhhh! The SELF---and the fun of PHONES! We no longer need to use our memory or, for that matter, much that has been buried in our brain for future connection.

I do not and will not possess an instrument that will allow me to forget my own phone number!

The love, charm, and sometimes anger or disappointment that has, in the past, been expressed by voice has now been replaced by a slave-cell to send a misspelled message by SMS.

I do find the whole episode a violent dismissal of human connection!

Here in Eilat, it may be even more rampant that elsewhere. On a bicycle with a baby attached, at the steering wheel, smoking a cigarette, the familiar pastime here --- (regardless of age or life station, this includes Rabbis), is the slave- to-cell that is above all else the important connection to a life force!

Crossing small or main streets with or against the right light, the conversation does not halt. The nausea of having to be witness to self preparation for the ubiquitous Selfies, on buses, bus depots, coffee shops, while driving, allows for no pause.

When the delivery rooms start to impose these self same selfies, we will know we are no longer fully bearing our role as fully developed human beings!

Children here find it hard to grasp adults' hands since between the lit cigarette and hand- held cell there is no place for the hand or the child's communication. At age two, or even younger, the little ones are supplied with their very own cell implement. This is usually their nearer of comic cartoons as they are strolled throughout the city and/or its malls.

Am I against progress? No, I do not believe so. I am against the overwhelming self aggrandizement that has become the norm. No more searching for the right answer, the right thought, the right word, the right number; it is all fed to your greedy eyes faster than a blink of same!

Where are we rushing to? What will be the brain without use? Atrophied? Swollen with forgetfulness?

Have you been experiencing CELLHELL instead of SELF HELP?

It is sad, obtrusive, and a threat to our very specialty---a human being with the gift of thought and speech!

Here's to coffee and conversation without cameras and cellslaves,

MISS RHEINGOLD