When P. had his first mobile phone, many years ago, he forwarded our landline and took the phone to the restaurant. I protested vehemently, to no avail. But after he had answered the most inconsequential call, it had lost its glamour, and he is now behaving in a very civilised manner.
After all these years I still don’t see its attraction. I have one, and value it for emergencies, but I don’t see the charm of being disturbed on my quiet walk in the woods, or while I’m contemplating the landscape outside the train window.
Nor do I like calling people on their mobile. “Sorry, I can’t hear you very well. I’m in the car, in a meeting, in the pub with friends.” Too often there is background buzz, or a crackling voice.
O boy! How I hate this means of non-communication!