By David Spates / davespates@tds.net
April 21, 2008 08:06 pm
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We’ve all been there: You’re in a crowded room when suddenly someone’s cell phone goes off. Who’s is it? Was it yours? Everyone reaches for their phone to see whose is ringing. All anyone hears is a tin-sounding, sampled song that no one can really make out. Was it Fergie, Metallica or the Ray Conniff Singers? When the audio comes from a microscopic speaker, it can be tough to tell, but I never have this problem. You know why? My cell phone is the only one that rings.
Oh sure, I’ve flirted with customizable ring tones. There was a time when I would even assign certain song ringtones to certain callers. When my friend who works in the music biz called, my cell phone would play Rush’s “YYZ.” When my parents called, I’d hear Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.” When a business associated called, I’d hear Pink Floyd’s “Money.” When the wife called, my cell phone would play, of course, Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.” (I’m certain there’s an award-winning sociological study in matching callers with their ringtones, but I’ve already used up my university-allocated funding for this term.)
But musical ringtones are all behind me. My adolescent fancy with cell phone ringtones has long since expired. My phone rings. That’s all it does. No forced strains of Zeppelin, Floyd or Patsy — just a simple, elegant, clear bbbrrriiiinnnggg.
It’s refreshing. Really it is. There were times when I’d hear my own ringtone and wonder, even if for only a fraction of a moment, who was playing music and why in the world won’t they spring for some decent speakers? Let’s be honest: There’s nothing quite as grating on the ears — apart from an 8-year-old practicing violin — as a sampled song played as a cell phone ringtone. If it’s your musical ringtone, it’s OK, but to the rest of the world, it’s just annoying.
One of my greatest fears is being sentenced to Auditory Hell, which I envision as a small room in which I am strapped to a chair and forced to listen to a seven-second clip of “Freebird” played through a cell phone for all of eternity. If that idea isn’t scary enough to get you to church this Sunday, nothing is.
What we’re basically talking about is a toy for adults. Adults like to play with their cell phones, fiddle around with the preferences and spend hours creating their own “personalized” ringtones. Oh sure, we adults may say that we need our various ringtones to differentiate between incoming callers as we navigate through life’s tribulations, but what we really want is a shiny toy that lights up and makes fun sounds.
One of the definitions of the word toy is “something that serves for or as if for diversion, rather than for serious practical use.” Is anyone else thinking of an iPhone right now? Don’t get me wrong. I’d love an iPhone. I’ve been using Apple computers since the late 1980s. No one’s a more staunch disciple of Steve Jobs’ products than I, but I know a toy when I see one.
It’s the distinction between want and need. No one needs an iPhone. We want an iPhone. I don’t need one, but I’d sure like one. A successful product blurs the line between want and need, and the iPhone does that quite well. Given enough time, a motivated adult will eventually convince himself that he needs a toy more than he wants it.
Adults with toys are a good thing. We all need some trivial joy in our lives. Although I find them annoying, I prefer that other people’s cell phones play musical ringtones. In a crowded room, that’s the only way I know which phone is mine.
David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday.
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