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Los Angeles Times Valley Edition | Glendale News-Press | 2004 August 7
Manner gone in thin 'ear'
BY PATRICK AZADIAN
I am not getting used to these ear sets for cellular phones.
Don't get me wrong; I am not on an anti-consumerism crusade. I am an advocate of the culture of "buy without knowing why." As a matter of fact, any day now my mom will be calling a family intervention meeting for my spending habits. Yet, the sights and sounds of grown men laughing out loud without anyone in sight is still disturbing.
This, of course, does not mean that the ear gadgets don't have their benefits.
Ear sets can make us better drivers. Just the other day, I escaped being run over by one of those colossal SUVs, which consume more energy than a Third World country. I was legally crossing Brand Boulevard when a gentleman was making a left turn. He had his hands on the wheel, but his cellphone was pressed against his ear with his shoulder. After a nimble escape from the moving glob of shiny sheet metal extracted violently from Mother Earth, I gave him an unfriendly look. He responded by waving his hand, accompanied with a mindless smile. "Heh, heh ... Sorry!" No problem, thanks for allowing me to live. Ear sets can save lives.
As a second feature, it is now possible to be inconsiderate to more than one friend at a time.
I was walking down the Marketplace, as I spotted a lady with a low-carb open burrito; she was sitting with a friend. The beautiful tunes of Puerto Rican salsa by Willie Colon were being broadcast from the Mexican food chain. I still have not understood the connection between serving pseudo-Mexican food and Puerto Rican salsa music. My best guess is that since the music from our Caribbean colony is called "salsa" and there is a Mexican food item with the same name, then it makes sense to broadcast "salsa" (the music) at the restaurant.
Back to our beloved lady on the Atkins diet. As she began munching on her "open" burrito, something other than her lunch got her attention. From the expression on her face, I knew she had gotten a phone call through her invisible ear set. She continued chewing, looked at her friend across the table, raised her index finger at him, squinted her eyes, and in a gesture suggesting "give me a minute," pressed her remaining index finger on her ear. She began talking, and continued chewing. I empathized with both of her friends. The friend on the other end of the phone must have had to decipher between the burrito being chewed, the chatter of the crowd, as well as Willie Colon, to understand the message from the friend. The friend at the table must have been wondering why he was there in the first place. Regular cellphones do not have the ability to spread inconsideration so broadly.
The third advantage of the gadget is that one can now look way more important than they actually are. On another occasion, I spotted a well- groomed young man talking to himself. I realized the ear sets were in use as soon as he raised his finger and placed it on his ear. His dapper manner and his serious demeanor suggested that he was in the middle of a serious business transaction. He would shake his head constantly and would give out what seemed to be important instructions. Perhaps he was in the process of buying stocks, acquiring mega real estate, or leasing a luxury car.
I finished my coffee and passed by him in an unsuspecting manner. He was speaking in Armenian: "Ha mom, yes es geesher doors em ertaloo yev makoor varteek choonem. Karogh es et karmeer Calvin Kleinuh luvanas?" ("Yeah mom, I am going out tonight and I have no clean underwear. Could you wash the red Calvin Klein one for me?")
He continued: "Meh haat el tei deer. Nor, nor, looleh kabob em kereh yev laav chem marseh." ("Make me some tea too; I just ate some ground beef kabob and I still have not digested it.") I can only imagine what his mother had to say: "Vaay koranam, yes kez meeteh chem aseh doorsuh mekenayadz mees choodes?" ("I rather go blind than see you undigested. Haven't I told you not to eat ground beef at a restaurant?")
Last, but not least, anyone can now look like a fool. I was standing in a long line at the bank sending out my usual brain signals to end up at the beautiful teller named "Valentina," when the middle-aged man behind me burst into loud laughter.
"WOOOOOOAH-HA-HA!"
I knew he could not have been reading my thoughts. And, no one else was talking to him. His long, bushy hair had covered the ear gadgets he was employing. Immediately, I had a revelation. If you have the habit of striking up a conversation with yourself in public, just because it is sometimes the most intelligent dialogue you will find, you can now look relatively normal. All you have to do is place your index finger in your ear and press it every once in awhile. Never before has the gap between normal and deviant been so small.
Copyright 2004 Glendale News Press
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