Luddite Chronicles: Whatever Happened To The Telephone
Why must I feel like a washed-up nobody just because I have no need for a new "data plan"? All I want to do is make (and pay for) a simple phone call.
MADRID — I recently tried telephoning my mother in Tehran. By that, I don't mean some kind of 1950s rotary phone or 1990s cordless relic. I've long embraced the convenience of using my mobile phone — though now we are told that it is a smart phone.
Well, I couldn't do it. A bit too smart? Once the Tehran number began ringing, I began to hear a strange digital whimper before the call up and died on me. Combining logic and paranoia, I concluded that I cannot use "my" phone to call a landline in Tehran. It has nothing to do with the receiving end, but rather that it's not included in my outgoing Spanish tarifa, the fixed 10-euro fee I've picked, valid for a month.
But you apparently can't use it for one big long faraway call if you wanted. If I "top up," the money just gets sucked into more computing bytes rather than what I want to do: talk to my mother.
Technology does not always favor free-market capitalism
Calling used to be an ordinary if not always a pleasurable activity. Just five years ago, I would recharge my phone with 5 or 10 euros, and speak to relatives in Tehran until the money ran out. And then recharge.
It was expensive, but I was making my consumer choice. One reason for buying my first mobile phone in London in 2001, was precisely for essential calls, which means family in Tehran. I remember using it to call my parents after the 9/11 attacks. The other reason, of course, was consumer compulsion — everyone else had one.
I'm a bad consumer of our electronic world
There is WhatsApp of course, which they tell us is the telephone. And although I like to tell myself Iran "keeps cutting the Internet," the application regrettably works most days. The point is, I don't feel I am calling. There is no formality in touching a screen and being connected for free. No, what I want is to make a call and pay for it in cash. Anyway, they're going to get my money...
Old pay phones in Canada
Bad consumer of electronics
A few days ago, the service provider, Vodafone, called again to propose a package to include far more bytes than I could ever eat, and stuff I could never understand. They want a contract, but I won't give them my bank account. I told the saleswomen that I don't look at the internet on my phone, so I don't need a xillion bytes. I adopted what was for me a benign, respectful tone, but realized afterward I may have sounded more like Doctor Evil in therapy.
Clearly, the problem is at this end of the line. I'm a bad consumer of our electronic world. I admit I've used the microwave every now and then, and I remember successfully sending a fax, circa 1999. The answering machine came and went and I never left anyone a message. I hate LED lighting. You get the idea.
Having said all that, maybe you can still call Tehran on my phone, and I just bungled it all. I don't care to find out. I know that near my apartment in Madrid, there's a Bangladeshi-owned shop that still has telephone booths.
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