Mom knew best after all

Not that I meant to do it, but I’ve proven that one cannot safely or effectively combine cell phone usage with other routine activities. And I believe it has nothing to do with distraction and everything to do with the fact that the human brain can do only one thing at a time.

Didn’t your mother tell you that you shouldn’t do two things at once because you’ll do neither well? Mom wasn’t referring to cell phone use, obviously, because we had no such gizmos when I was a kid. But that was a lesson from childhood, right there with “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” “Don’t sing at the table,” and “Stop frowning or your face will stay that way.”

Dave is proof of that last one. Right above his nose he has a couple of furrows in perpetual frown mode. You could grow corn in them. It may have been a childhood thing, but they have indeed been that way for all the years I’ve known him.

But back to cell phones. We both find it irksome to get within earshot of someone holding loud conversations in public – solo.

Does it only seem that they talk louder on the phone than in person? No, they actually do. I read a study that explains this. When speaking face to face with someone, we rely more than we realize on watching lips and facial expressions to make sure we understand words and meanings. Phone conversations lose that support. Hence the louder dialogue – er, monologue.

If my experience last week at Wal-Mart meant anything it is that I should never, ever, use a cell phone while wiring circuit boards, performing brain surgery, or driving.

We had bought what we came for, and Dave was waiting for me on the far side of the check-out lines. I was doing my usual fumble trying to operate the credit card swipe while holding on to my shoulder bag. My purchases were bagged and back in the shopping cart but for some reason I had money in my hand and my purse is open and I’m trying to get things organized – when my cell phone rang.

I carry the cell phone only when I’m expecting a call or know I’ll be driving alone after dark. Rarely do I receive calls on it. I fumbled around, dropping my wallet and coin purse. Finally I found the phone (in the phone cell pocket of my bag – imagine!), hit the right key for once, and answered it.

The voice was familiar, male, and was talking about having dinner next weekend instead of this one. It clicked in: Our favorite neighbor on the left is moving (we also have a favorite neighbor on the right, but she’s not moving, I hope) and I had invited them to have dinner with us before they go. He was calling to reschedule.

All this happened in seconds, but later it came to me that in the time it took me to answer, the check-out lady had stopped smiling. In fact her face looked sullen and she was looking off into space. She had been cut off when her customer tended to the phone instead of her transaction. Why should she care about my clumsiness, as I scrambled to put my Visa card in the right pocket of my wallet before dropping it to join the pennies that had escaped my coin purse.

An older gentleman behind me was picking them up, but thinking I had more than 4 cents, I was bent over searching the floor, too.

So here we are, human connectedness severed for lack of eye contact, except for the caller who was clueless of the awkwardness of my position.

Where’s the Visa card? Oh, wrong pocket, but it’s here. Did my receipt get into the bag containing my spiffy new workout sweats? Yes, although the bag was no longer filled with sweats; they crawled out while I was searching for the receipt.

“Thanks for calling, Gary. We’ll talk later…. No, I’m at Wal-Mart dropping things on the floor. Thanks for…” Now he got it, and signed off, chuckling slightly.

Eye contact with the clerk reestablished, I apologized for the chaos, then began looking for Dave who didn’t really want eye contact with this flailing incompetent lest someone think he knows her.

Inventory complete, belongings retrieved, Visa card secure, 4 cents back in the purse, Dave looking more and more annoyed. It was time to stop and take a deep breath.

In that moment, I thought I heard someone calling, “Ma’am! Ma’am!” I glanced around and, of course, saw at least 20 people who might answer to “Ma’am.” I resumed pushing my buggy toward the door, when “Ma’am!” caught up with me.

Now what? I must have dropped something. I mean, something else.

“Excuse me,” the clerk said, reaching past me into the cart. “I believe I gave you this gentleman’s ice cream.”

Oh, why not? That’s all I needed in the back of the car while we did our grocery shopping at Kroger.

The point is… I don’t know what the point us, but I’m sure you’ve figured out why I, at least, should never, ever operate even a grocery cart, much less a car, while using a cell phone.