And that's why I can't stand cell phones

"Okay Peter Hammond, now I want you to think long and hard about the answer to this next question, because if you get it wrong, your tombstone will read, 'Here lies Peter Hammond, who valiantly and courageously tried to prevent a brilliant bank robbery by hiding his cell phone, and who ended up getting shot in the fucking face.' Now where's your cell phone?"
Dalton Russell, Inside Man

Yesterday, I mentioned the funeral of my friend Chris and the lovely eulogy given by his grandfather.

In this eulogy, he explained to us that, when Chris was a young boy, he'd play this game where he'd steal his grandfather's pen from his shirt pocket and it was up to Grandpa to get it back. This went on for years.

In one of the most touching moments of Chris's memorial services, his grandfather tucked the pen into Chris's lifeless hand to be buried with him forever.

As the grandfather was explaining the pen's significance, the back-and-forth game between him and Chris, somebody's cell phone went off. If you've gone into a funeral without out turning off your phone, shame on you. I hope this makes you feel bad: You are a terrible person. Period.

What was worse was that the damn thing kept ringing. They didn't even have the courtesy to silence the fucker. It rang and rang, echoing in the church, interrupting that painful eulogy. The ringing finally ended, followed by a beep to signify that they'd left a message.

There was a time, even in my own lifetime, when phones weren't even a necessity, a time when I could have a pleasant conversation without an interruption.

I got rid of my own cell over a year ago, and man, what a relief. I feel good about myself for
not feeling so reliant on this shrinking piece of technology.

Yeah, so I'll admit that a phone would be handy every once in a while, and I'll even admit that some folks actually need their cell phones. But if it's so urgent that you get that call, just skip the goddamn funeral.