I’m the Gloomy Boomer.

I’m an old man in a crazy ass world.

I’m trying to move my feet to the sunny side of the street, okay? That’s my tag.

I mean, so what if society’s going down a scary road. I see it as a good thing. A good thing people stare at phones all day.

I stare at my phone all day and I like it.

My phone’s kind of like a security blanket!

Texting replaces talking

I used to avoid texting. I wrongly assumed my fat fingers made texting awkward.

Not anymore!

I learned you don’t need grammar.

A texting conversation requires very little grammatical etiquette.

None even.

Nor does it require any kind of etiquette.

With a phone conversation you must at least pretend to pay attention to the loser on the other end of the line. Granted, his fears, needs and interests are so petty and insipid you find it almost impossible to maintain a shred of patience. Yet you must avoid hanging up in disgust…

NOT SO WITH A TEXT.

I mean, you can be texting with Gilligan’s Island on the tube…texting while you trim your toenails…texting as your canary drops dead from its swing…texting at a mud wresting event…texting while deep in prayer…texting as the guard opens the cell door to lead you to the electric chair…

Ruth Snyder being electrocuted for the crime of murdering her husband. This was before the advent of cell phones. she may have tolerated her spouse and avoided this unfortunate end if only she’d had the luxury of texting him rather than listen to his boring conversations day in and day out.

It gets even better

You can maintain multiple texts while you pretend your original text recipient holds your rapt attention.

You can text yourself a poem as you’re texting this original loser.

You can do this to your phone as you text him

YOU CAN TEXT ALL IN CAPITOL LETTERS LIKE trump DOES IN TWEETS. People will think you’re an asshole like they do Trump but that won’t stop you.

No big deal, you’re texting.

Texting removes your need to show any kind of emotional reciprocity…or good manners.

You can abandon the text exchange…and it’s no big deal. It’s not even called an exchange. It’s a stream.

You don’t need to say goodbye…which is often awkward.

You just stop texting!

Is that beautiful or what?

It’s beautiful.

A cell phone is like a gadget to me

I’m cool with my cell phone.

I’m not strapped for a death struggle with my device.

I’m totally cool with the damned thing. Hell, I love it more than life, even.

I’m not worried my phone’s gonna turn me into a Zombie.

I’m already a Zombie!

No way am I afraid of my cell phone.

It’s like a gadget to me. That’s what we used to call new electronic products. Things the Japanese flooded us with. Transistor Radios and the like. We called them Gadgets. We never worried they’d enslave us.

Nowadays we’re beyond enslavement.

Why?

Because we’re old. We’re used up. We’re done! That’s the beauty of being old.

Nobody and nothing can fuck with you!

You can die laughing.

Or hang around like the ghostly crew of the Lady Be Good.

The crew of Lady Be Good. Left to right: Hatton, Toner, Hays, Woravka, Ripslinger, LaMotte, Shelley, Moore, Adams.

But what about these Punks?

High School kids hanging out at the office. They’re not talking to each other…bragging and shit…or even getting high and talking…like we used to do. They’re device zombies!

They all got cell phones now. Texting away like busy bees.

I wonder how teachers put up with cell phones when everybody in class has a cell phone. I mean, even if they’re forced to turn off their devices at the start of class I know damned well there’s punks that get around the rules. Shit. I used to be one of those unruly punks.

And these kids.

They always had cell phones.

They didn’t have a life before cell phones.

I’m trying to imagine how humanoid cell phone device junkies will evolve.

What will they become?

Robert Culp’s transformation during the course of, the architects of fear. This is an Outer Limits episode (episode 3) I first watched when I was ten years old. It greatly contributed to my twisted psyche.

The future

What’s life gonna be like in forty years when nobody under sixty remembers a time before we had cell phones?

And what will the cell phone itself evolve into?

This is all shit beyond the scope of the Gloomer’s Blog.

Time to get off my ass and Text somebody.