I believe the research that says cell phones cause problems with your brain.  I don’t think it’s because of radiation, I just think it’s because cell phones are making me dumber.  I can still remember the phone number of my best friends from when I was five years old, but I can’t tell you the actual digits that make up any of my family or friend’s phone numbers.  When I need to call them, the phone just has it memorized for me, so I don’t need to waste brain space with that.  I dropped my phone in water a couple years ago, and I was completely paralyzed.  And I don’t mean figuratively either, this was real paralysis.  I just stared catatonic as my phone dripped water, each drop pooling below into a puddle of broken dreams and forgotten phone numbers.

Every time I got a new phone and the numbers didn’t automatically come along for the ride and I had to manually re-enter all the numbers, it was actually easier to stop being friends with someone than to enter their number in again.  ”Hmm, well, I only see him once a year, so….I’m not going to type ten numbers into my phone AGAIN, geesh.”

Now I have a “smart phone” that is pretty much a tiny little computer, and it’s making me even dumber.  I never need to remember anything anymore.  What time is it?  Look at my phone.  What was the score of that game from last night? Look at my phone.  What’s my middle name? Look at my phone.  What’s the color of the sky? Look at my phone.  What time is it again, because I forgot already from six seconds ago?  Look at my phone.   If I lose my phone now, I think I’ll just have to sit in a chair wrapped in a blanket trying to fight off the shakes until someone comes and gives me a new one, yelling things like “Someone get me a Droid because that chair just exploded into a thousand snakes and I can’t stop them!”

One thing my smartphone did do was automatically import all my email contacts and Facebook friends and Twitterfaces, and it was actually a very humbling experience to see how many asshats you’re “friends” with.  When the phone actually compiles a list of your life and says, “Here, good sir, is the list of everything you have accomplished socially.  Judging by your friends, you are a horrible person.”  But the phone doesn’t know me.  I only had that person’s number in my phone so I would know when they were calling so I could avoid them, because as I mentioned before I can’t remember anyone’s actual phone number so I need to see their name pop up before I can think, “Oh yeah, I hate them.”

So the first thing I did was go through that list and start deleting people.  Know what? It felt good.  It was the digital equivalent of telling someone off that you don’t have the nerve to say it to their face, which let’s face, is really what the internet is for anyway. “You don’t mean as much to me as you think you do.  Who do you think you are anyway, huh? I don’t have to take that from you! DELETED! HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT NOW?”

Now it’s getting to the point that my phone is training me like it’s Pavlov and I’m Snoopy.  Every time my phone makes any sort of noise or vibration, I have to check it.  It’s as much of a reflex to me now as hitting the snooze button.  My pocket goes BZZZZ and I have to check what someone just sent me, my hand just flied to my phone before I know what it’s doing.  It’s so bad, I hear someone else’s phone beep and I have to check mine just to make sure.  As far as I know, maybe my phone beeped at exactly the same time and the other phone’s beep covered mine up, so better safe than sorry and I’ll check it.

And I’m not the only one.  Sometimes I’ll hear my phone beep, and I’ll see someone nearby else go to their pocket to pull theirs out.  I’ll be nice and say, “Oh that was mine,” but they always say, “Oh I know,” and check their phone anyway because they’re as bad as me.

We’re all addicted to our phones now, our entire society is walking around with an addictive substance in their pockets.  People see Steve Jobs on television launching a new product and they’re all “Oooh he’s a genius!” Know what? I hate Steve Jobs. He’s basically the biggest drug dealer in the world.  Whenever you have people waiting outside a building shivering in the cold because they need their fix of whatever you’re selling, you’re a drug dealer. “C’mon man, just a little iPhone? No? iPod Touch? C’mon man, I’m dyin here!”

I work in tech support. So in this analogy, I’m the guy you call when your heroin needle isn’t working right.

“Needle’s R Us Tech Support, how can I help you?”

“Um yeah….it ain’t doin’ what it do.”

“Could you be more specific please?”

“The needle man, it won’t go in right, it gets all bendy and stuff.”

“Sir, have you tried rebooting it?”