Smart Phone. Smart Owner?

I was on the bus the other day, minding my own business, overhearing some people talking.  (okay, I wanted to mind my own business, but they were sitting right next to me and talking very loudly)  What really caught my attention, other than tales of drunkenness, was that one of them claimed his cell phone bill was more than 200 dollars.

More than 200 dollars!  Is that really possible?  Was he calling the International Space Station?

Granted, we are talking about a smart phone, so this bill includes some sort of data..... but still.  Is everybody out there running up these whopping phone bills?  Are all of you paying hundreds of dollars for the convenience of sending text messages, and checking twitter messages?  (Couple this with the cost of some of these smart phones, at least I can understand why we call the phones smart......)

Honestly, I am not a big fan of cell phones.  I am not unaware of their advantages.  I am also not unaware of their coolness factor.  My problem is less with them and more with the owners.  Is the information being conveyed really worth hundreds of dollars?  Is what you have to say, and who you have to say it to, really worth so much money?  Just asking.

The Fall TV Season

I think I missed something.  Usually, around this time, I am either getting worked up or rolling my eyes at the new fall TV show ads.  Up to this point, I think I've seen two.  What happened?

Usually I'm inundated with laugh track filled commercials telling me what shows are the funniest new show of the season, or the next Friends.  Usually, I'm waist deep in promos for the next crop of reality shows that depict a somewhat specialized view of the not so real world.  Usually the stars are on parade on every talk show on the planet hyping the fall line-up.

What happened?

Did Hollywood run out of ideas?  That happened years ago, and it hasn't stopped them.

Maybe I have just been spending too much time blogging to notice.

The Curious Case of the Elevator Button

the elevator has been summoned

I came upon a rather typical scene the other day.  I walked up to the elevator, pressed the elevator call button and took my place leaning against the wall, waiting for the incredibly slow elevator to make its way to my floor.

Another person, a short time after me, walked up and pressed the same elevator call button.  This was followed by a third and a fourth.  They all pressed the button, despite seeing the line up of people and the amber light glowing in the centre of the button.

This is not a new situation.  I have been involved in this situation many times, and I have taken many roles.  I have been the "I already pressed it" guy, utilizing a variety of character traits that ranged from sincere concern to incredibly sarcastic. My favourite was the nonchalant "pressed it".  The few times that I got  a response, the person usually just said, "I know."  Some smiled, some nodded, some feigned ignorance... heck one guy even high fived me--okay, I made that last one up.

I have also come upon the scene later and witnessed the exact same conversation (if you could call it that) with the same high quality responses.  I've witnessed the same ponderous, or incredulous faces.  I've watched countless eye rolls.  I even have to admit that I have been one of the guys who has pushed the already lit up button.

safe to press

So what is it about the elevator call button that makes us push it, even though we can clearly see it lit up.  Is it a psychological need for control.  I can't believe anyone thinks the elevator car is going to come that much faster if we press the button again.  Is it just that the little amber light doesn't register in our minds until after we have pressed it.  I have thought long and hard about this and am left to conclude that we should file that away with the secret of how Cadbury gets the caramel in the Caramilk bar.

The only real world connection to this seems to be the walk button when you want to cross the street.  I don't see people lining up one after another to press it, but I have seen (and taken part in) an almost ritualistic act of pushing the buttons multiple times, perhaps believing that, in fact, the light will change that much sooner.