#Bristol - The Horizontal Holdouts: A Thought, or Two, on Sideways Speech in the Vertical World of Phones.
Exploring the Curious Case of Publicly Shared Banality and the Quest for the Elusive Ear-to-Mouth Connection.
Oh look. A man about to eat his phone!
Now, look again. People shouting. YOU KNOW, LIKE WE REALLY WANT TO HEAR THEIR CONVERSATIONS!
Ah, the modern marvel of communication! It seems the very devices designed to connect us are now wielded with the grace of a toddler attempting brain surgery. Perhaps, you're not alone in noticing these... peculiarities of phone usage. Let's dive into this fascinating phenomenon with a touch of jest, shall we?
The Quest for the Elusive Horizontal Handset and the Public Broadcast of Banality.
In these bewildering times, one often yearns for simpler days, perhaps when phones were attached to walls and the only person privy to your conversation was the cat. Now, however, we navigate a world where the art of holding a rectangular device to one's ear seems to have been lost to the mists of digital antiquity.
You, astute observer, may well have noticed the curious case of the disappearing horizontal handset. Once a proud symbol of the business elite, cradled between shoulder and ear, leaving hands free for the important work of… well, whatever it was they did with those free hands. Today? Vanished, it seems, replaced by the horizontal grip of the smartphone, often held at an awkward distance as if it might suddenly bite. Or, the user is about to devour it.
One can almost imagine a niche market emerging: "The Horizontal Hold Handset Emporium." Picture it: shelves lined with sleek, ergonomically designed phones, perfectly balanced for comfortable horizontal conversation. Perhaps they'd even come with a built-in shoulder rest and an optional antenna for that truly retro feel. The tagline? "Speak Sideways, Speak Sensibly." One can dream.
But let's not dwell solely on the seemingly horizontal tyranny of modern phone usage. Instead, let’s touch upon an even more perplexing auditory assault: the epidemic of the unsolicited public broadcast. It's as if personal conversations have become performance art, thrust upon unsuspecting bystanders in supermarkets, on trains, and even during moments of quiet contemplation in the park. You know, conversations where the person speaking thinks the person on the other end is on the far side of the world, and their voice can somehow travel that distance, with the phone being simply an aid to their conversation.
One can only speculate on the motivations behind this sonic exhibitionism. Perhaps it's a misguided attempt at inclusivity – "Come, everyone, share in the mundane details of my dentist appointment!" Or maybe it's a subtle power play – "Behold my social connections! Listen as Brenda from accounts confirms the spreadsheet!"
Imagine the internal monologue of the unwilling audience member: "Yes, Sharon, I am fascinated to learn that your cat coughed up a hairball the size of a small badger. Truly captivating." Or, "Oh, Kevin, the intricacies of your car insurance renewal are precisely the riveting content I sought during my attempt to find inner peace."
Perhaps one day, we'll see the rise of more "Quiet Zones" in public spaces. You know, like on trains (when people can read a sign), enforced by stern individuals wielding "Silence Please" signs. Or maybe, just maybe, a collective understanding will dawn upon the land: that the magic of a phone call lies in its personal nature, a connection between two (or sometimes more) individuals, not a public service announcement for the masses.
Until that utopian moment arrives, we can only sigh, perhaps invest in some high-quality noise-cancelling headphones, and continue our quest for the mythical vertical handset, a relic of a time when phone calls were a dialogue, not a broadcast. And who knows, maybe that "Horizontal Hold Handset Emporium" isn't such a far-fetched idea after all. Necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention... and perhaps to some, sanity.
The Evolving Etiquette (or Lack Thereof).
Consider the evolving etiquette, or rather, the conspicuous lack thereof. It's not uncommon to witness individuals engaged in speakerphone conversations while simultaneously navigating crowded spaces, their disembodied voices echoing through the throng like pronouncements from a digital deity. One might even encounter the truly evolved specimen: the dual-device wielder. Picture this: one phone held aloft, broadcasting their end of the exchange for all within a ten-mile radius, while the other is clutched to their ear, presumably to better hear the unfortunate soul on the other end subjected to this mobile cacophony. It's a symphony of digital dissonance, a personal bubble of noise pollution expanding with each oblivious step.
And let's not forget the dramatic flair some individuals bring to their public pronouncements. The exaggerated sighs, the theatrical eye-rolls directed at no one in particular, the emphatic pronouncements of "Honestly!" as if the entire bus were deeply invested in the unfolding domestic drama. One almost expects a tiny spotlight to illuminate them, a captive audience forced to endure their soliloquy of the mundane, and a Simon Cowell type character appearing to inform them their delivery needs a tad more reality. Perhaps they envision themselves as the stars of their own reality show, unaware that the only viewers are a collection of weary commuters and a seagull eyeing a dropped chip with considerably more interest. The age of subtle communication, it seems, has been well and truly drowned out by the blare of the loudspeaker and the unintentional performance art of the device designed to be a vertically held device.
A Humorous History of Phone Habits.
It wasn't always this way. In the early days of the telephone, a different set of etiquette rules prevailed. Alexander Graham Bell, the telephone's inventor, suggested using "Ahoy" as a greeting. While it didn't stick, one can only imagine the hilarity of answering a call with a hearty "Ahoy, matey!" today.
Early 20th-century guides advised women to resolve arguments by telephone, believing the immediate connection prevented matters from festering. Imagine trying to have a heated debate on speakerphone in a crowded train carriage today!
One service even had to remind male users to keep their moustaches out of the mouthpiece. A problem, thankfully, that has largely faded into history.
The Speakerphone Spectacle: A Modern Tragedy
Today, the speakerphone in public has become a source of endless amusement and irritation. It's a performance, a one-sided play where the unwilling audience is forced to listen to every detail, from grocery lists to medical updates.
The Loud and Proud: These individuals seem to believe the world is their personal conference call.
The "I Can't Hear You" Defense: Often a flimsy excuse for their exhibitionism.
The Dramatic Monologue: Complete with sighs, eye-rolls, and theatrical pronouncements.
In Conclusion: A Plea for Phone Sanity.
Perhaps, in the spirit of historical phone etiquette, we should all start announcing our phone numbers when we answer, just to confuse the speakerphone users. Or maybe, we can revive even more of the "Quiet Zones" in our ‘supposed to be’ world, but this time, armed with noise-cancelling headphones and a collective sigh.
Until then, let's remember the words of Angus Hibbard, from 1901: use the phone properly and efficiently, and "it will do its duty." A lesson, it seems, we are still learning today. Or not, as the case may be!
