I hate Alexander Graham Bell

There are few things in life that demand my attention. For example:

• Yes Dear, when she gives me the evil eye to let me know that I've royally screwed up.
• Chief Bossman, whenever he comes into my cubicle, or anywhere within eyesight. He could be coming to talk about how bad the Cubs are going to suck and I'd say "Yes sir, they are."

Other than those two, there isn't a lot that demands I drop what I'm doing to give something else my full attention. But for some reason, our society now believes that a telephone should rank up there with your boss or significant other in terms of importance. It's like the call of the Sirens, you simply can't resist it. I mean, is there anything more obnoxious than a ringing phone?

For example, just this past week, I got home before my wife and I'd settled in to watch PTI on ESPN. At about 5:50 p.m., the phone rings. Now I have two choices, I can let the answering machine pick up so I can screen my calls to avoid anyone I'm really not in the mood to talk to (which, at that point, was pretty much everyone) or I could take a risk and answer the phone, not knowing who would be on the other end.

(While not as catchy, Forest Gump should have said "Life is like receiving a phone call. You never know what's on the other end." It's like playing the lottery when you answer the phone. It could be your college roommate that you haven't talked to in five years that you've been wondering about, or it could be that annoying guy at your office who wants to know if you're free tonight so he can borrow your washer and dryer because his broke.)

Anyway, I chose option one and didn't answer. If it was important enough, they'd leave a message and I'd pick up. In this particular case, no one left a message, so I figured it wasn't that important.

Flash forward about an hour. Yes Dear arrives home and asks me where I was earlier. I told her I was at work and then came straight home. She says she tried me at work and no one answered and then when she called the apartment, no one answered there either. I asked her if she left a message and she said "no, why would I?" I told her if she'd left a message, I'd have picked up.

Somehow I'm supposed drop everything I'm doing just because someone called me? How does that work? I got a phone for my convenience, not for someone else's. Just because it's a good time for you doesn't mean it's a good time for me. But no, a ringing phone must be answered.

When I worked at a certain video rental store, we were expected to answer the phone, even if we were waiting on customers. You know, the customers, the people who took the time to leave their home to come to the store and have the right to expect service. Yeah, I had to tell those people to hold on because some lazy person didn't want to drive 10 minutes to find out if there was a copy of Spiderman2 available.

And don't get me started on cell phones. (Well, I guess I'll go on, can't stop now.) When did we, as a society, decide we had so much to say that we needed to be in constant communication with people? Is it to much to ask that I'm unavailable from the time I leave my work to the time I get home? Are there really pressing issues that can't wait until I'm not putting myself or others at risk by distracting my driving?

I'm actually one of the few people I know without a cell phone. I haven't given in to THE MAN who wants me to be in constant contact with everyone. No, in my own little ineffective way, I'm sticking it to THE MAN, and it feels . . . Well, I thought it'd feel cooler to stick it to THE MAN.

And despite the constant calls of telemarketers, politicians, the busy signals and the call waiting and all the other "advancements" that add more stress to our lives, Alexander Graham Bell is considered a brilliant inventor. He's lucky. He didn't have to live to see what his invention hath wrought on our society.