So there he is.

Cheshire cat, with a Joe Isuzu smile being loaded onto his face. He snaps his fingers and ends with the pistol fingers pointing at us.

Oh great, here he comes.

Before we go to far let me move back a bit and express some history. Back in the sixties there was this guy that if I have read correctly was an air traffic controller. I could be wrong. For all I know he had never even been near an airport but for all intents and purposes we'll say he was an Air Traffic Controller dude. But what he loved to do was write. His name, Gene Roddenberry. Now you say I know the name but not why, or hey what the hell maybe you don't even know the name.

Anyway, he wrote Star Trek.

Now way back then they did some things that were way ahead of their time. For example Star Trek is credited with the first inter-racial kiss on television. Way ahead of it’s time. Gene thought that people in the future wouldn’t worry about race. Another would be worrying about how to get a hold of their friends because everyone would have a personal communicator. They all had one and when they needed to talk to Mr. Scott, Sulu, or some guy in a red shirt all they had to do was reach behind their back, whip it out, and flip it open.

“Kirk to red shirt guy with no name, come in.”

So you fast forward to the Eighties (from the sixties, not the 23rd century. I work with a lot of people that were born in the glorious eighties. In the eighties the personal communicator, er, I mean cell phone appeared in everyday life. People like Gordon Gekko used them (see the old movie section down at Blockbuster and look for Wall Street) and other business types. They were big and blocky and when it stopped working you could use it as a five pound weight to work out with or self defense on a New York subway. Move to another decade and it wasn't just old Gordo using them. There were a few soccer moms and other Road Warriors that wanted a little added protection in case they got a flat and duh, didn't have a spare tire, or at least a spare with air (which is was my case once).

Anyway it was for emergencies only. These were the hero’s made popular on shows like Rescue 911 (interestingly enough again with Captain Kirk).

And now there’s today. Everyone has a cell phone. My niece who is 11 has a cell phone. Why? That brings us back to Joe Cheshire Cat Isuzu boy at the mall. He snaps his fingers and points pistol fingers at us as we try to get past those annoying kiosks that every mall now has in the middle to grab those not smart enough to jump into a store. They’re the Jehovah Witness Amway sales people of the Mall. .

"I can save you guys a ton of money."

Like he knows what a ton of money looks like. I fight to stop the natural reaction of my eyes rolling and punching him in his long slender weasel like nose. I succeed but that energy that was stored for rolling my eyes slips out as a laugh. The Missus though is tempted.

She loves cell phones.

She doesn’t buy into my cell phone conspiracy theory.

I know. All of you have cell phones as well. Maybe even two. What else are you going to do with that “special-buy-4-phones-and-get-the-special-rate-family-deal-while-supplies-last” even though you’re single and have no prospects, but bear with me while I throw out my ideas here. As I pull the missus away Joe winks and licks his lips.

For a split second I think I see the tip of his tongue has a split in it as do his serpent brethren.

"Good thing I'm here to save you." I say to the missus.

The missus, in her usual wifey way ignores me. Like I said, she doesn’t buy into the cell phone conspiracy. You see from Captain Kirk to, well Captain Kirk, our life really hasn't changed. Kids still go to school, Mom and Dad go to work, kids still play soccer, people still travel on the highways and by-ways, yet the phone companies want us, no need us to believe that because we all do these things, we need a cell phone. I know. I know there are a lot of arguments for it but I just haven't bought into it (nor have I bought a phone). So in my usual way I continue talking as if the missus is actually listening.

"The great cell phone conspiracy. How did we live before? Why should we have a phone at home, an answering machine at home, a cell phone on my hip, and voicemail on the same cell phone not to mention voicemail at work, or voicemail on my home phone in case I'm actually using that phone."

My mother bought a Yukon last year. It has a built in cell phone.

The missus doesn't say anything which means that she is fighting not to say something. She stops at some little store that has pictures of little dogs out front. She likes little dogs.

"I hope I'm never that important that I need to be reached at all hours of the day." I say.

She says nothing but I think in her mind she likely says you’re not and you won’t ever be.
You see when she had a cell phone before it never worked. Once the car broke down and the phone was dead. Not only did the car break down it broke down out in the middle of nowhere. Another time we had a flat, I changed said flat, and a mile down the road we had another. Two flats in a row. Do you realize the odds of this happening? We had a flat and then used the spare, so when we had a second flat we had nothing. Calling for help was out of the question because we were out of the service area. You see those commercials with all those little bars showing up everywhere?

Na-ah. Wasn’t happening.

There were other times. Like the time we were lost and we would dial the number we were given in case we got lost, which is an entirely different story and conspiracy theory, and the phone would ring once and then disconnect. It just didn't want to ever work.

Gordon Gekko's cell phone always worked.

The missus says nothing but has a slight smile which means that she wants to tell me I’m not that important. Underneath her clam façade, not to far down mind you, she wants to run back and see just how much Cheshire can save us (as opposed to what we're saving by not having one), then run to the next kiosk and buy three or four covers for the different season's, holidays, special occasions, an M-dog cover (what I call her little black Scottie dog), maybe even a patriotic cover that says “ I have weapons of mass destruction” on it. Then she would probably ask about a second one so she can call me from her phone when I'm at the pool either swimming or trying to read while not noticing the bikinis.

Hmmm.

Maybe that's why she would call…anyway I still fight and warn people of the conspiracy. I pull her away some more, urging her towards stretching more space between us and the well intentioned (because we know the road of good intentions leads to the cell phone kiosk) phone dude. Maybe one day I'll break down. Maybe one day I'll say okay fine and the missus will go and get one or two or there might be some special deal for three or four (One for me, the missus, the heir apparent, and the dog). Oy vey.

Until then I resist. I wonder what the Captain would say?

Maybe that, resistance is futile.