We begin with an old black phone. A heavy, late sixties model. I remember the feeling of satisfaction I could get by hanging up on someone -- much more satisfying than ending a cell phone call mid-sentence, although we'll get to that later -- by slamming the receiver back into the cradle. A good noise, with a little "ding" at the end, as the bell inside it was jangled. While I had always liked the even older phones that you can see in black and white movies -- the ear piece on a cord, and the rest of the machine on the wall like a payphone -- I had to admit that the heavier 1960's model had specific advantages for anyone genuinely interested in effective telephone communication.

You see, there are two ends to every telephone line, and two homes in which the communication would be effective. First, the person at the other end would hear the "tchk -d-dnnnnnnnnnnnn" of the call ending with its wonderful click into the finality of the dialing tone. But the speaker also got to enjoy the added histrionics of hearing the phone slamming down at her end, and knowing that her point had been made. I do miss those old phones. The receivers were also useful for tapping the dog on the head when he wanted to go out in the middle of your conversation with Aunt Cissie about the protagonist of her latest Mills and Boon novelette (Yet Once More, O Passion's Prison) -- a communiqué he quickly understood to mean "not now, Questing Beast." Furthermore (is there no end to the adaptability of this machine?), the body of the telephone could prop doors open safely, letting summer breezes waft into the house, and sending a signal back outside that yes, you were home, and visitors would be received while this pennoncel was in place.

I'm going to skip right past trim-phones.  We all remember those puny, lightweight little chirpers.  Silly stuff for people who whistle and think that the sun shines behind every looming cloud.  No; let us move forward to the cordless revolution, and the advent of the carefree "I can walk everywhere, including into the bathroom" attitude.  Since the receivers have to hold a battery, they command some respect in the heft department.  Thus, they quickly became the perfect instrument to throw at your partner, if he happened to be in the room, and at the wall, if he didn't.  I would like a tally of how many sales people at Circuit City had folks come in to buy a replacement phone because "that daft bird threw the phone out the window of a ten storey building." 

Not known for its usefulness as hammer, doorstop, or projectile (unless you manage a direct hit to the corner of the eye, say), the cell phone has diminished the instrument's effectiveness as a tool for physical communication, and made it a weapon of more stealth and passive-agressive tendencies. Your spouse, six sheets to the wind, is unconscious and drooling lager on your favorite duvet. Take his photo on your cell phone and post it to the web. A great way to say I love you. Or, in a crowded doctor's office waiting room, download annoying ring tones until everyone is just as miserable as you are that you have an STD (oh well -- that's what you get for dialing direct). This sends a clear message to those around you, and indeed someone may even let you go in to see the doctor in front of her, at the behest of the room.

Text someone while an annoying co-worker is trying to explain this week's spreadsheet to you. This indicates that you have far more important tasks to attend to, and that you are capable of multi-tasking with ease. Or, in a meeting, record "notes to self" on your cell, to let everyone know the contempt with which you view their PowerPoint Presentation on the correct manner of sealing office envelopes. Finally, another favorite, set your phone on "vibrate" while in a meeting, have someone call you, and smile. A lot.