On a recent bus trip from upstate NY, back to the forlorn isle of Manhattan, a woman somewhere behind me indulged in a long cell phone chat.  For a full, voluble half-hour, she kept her yakmate abreast on where the bus was: every freeway exit, toll booth, and road sign we met on our perilous journey was described in detail.  Even our bus’s triumphal entry into Port Authority was annotated: first her alarm that we were on 40th St., although she had been told that the station was on 42nd; then the enumeration of each gate number that we passed; then a color commentary on a tire change in front of us.  We arrived, by the way, on time at the proper gate; it’s not as if she needed to alert her friend of any delay.  Cell phones are convenient, but I often wish my fellow citizens went without them.

(Posted by Doug Skinner)