Reach out and touch a cellular phone jerk

Originally published 31 May 1999

You have reached the office of Har­ry Hawk­er. You may leave a mes­sage at the beep.

“Hel­lo, Har­ry? Robert here. I can’t give you the full scoop right now. I’m on my cell phone at a con­cert. Mid­dle of the sec­ond move­ment of some sym­pho­ny or oth­er. I’ve got some­thing big for you. The lat­est thing in per­son­al com­mu­ni­ca­tions. It’s hot, Har­ry. Real hot. If you check your machine, give me a call. You know my num­ber. I’ll call you again when I get to the restaurant.”

Chirp…chirp.

“Har­ry? Oh, it’s you, Ally. Lis­ten, I told you not to call Dad­dy when he is at the con­cert. Yeah, I know the babysit­ter won’t let you watch TV after 10 o’clock. That’s what Mom­my and Dad­dy told her to do. Now hang up the phone. Some peo­ple don’t like it when a phone rings at a con­cert. And besides, I’m wait­ing for an impor­tant call. Yeah, Dad­dy miss­es you too. Go to bed.”

You have reached the office of Har­ry Hawk­er. You may leave a mes­sage at the beep.

“Har­ry. Robert again. Where are you, guy? The con­cert sucked. Some­thing dumb by Brahms. Or was it Bach? We’re wait­ing for a table at Gina’s, the new restau­rant down­town. You’d like it, Har­ry. We’ll do lunch here some­time. Lis­ten, I’d rather not be talk­ing to your machine but the sto­ry is this: Our R&D guys have come up with a drop-dead prod­uct. We’re look­ing for a strate­gic alliance with some­one with mar­ket­ing clout. That’s you, Har­ry. Give me a buzz when you get in. This is some­thing you don’t want to miss.”

Chirp…chirp

“Har­ry? Mom! Why are you call­ing this time of the night? We’re just fin­ish­ing dessert at a new restau­rant down­town. Nice place. Real classy, you know what I mean? Your boy’s made good. So, what’s up? No, I did­n’t for­get that Sun­day is your birth­day. Yeah, I know. We’ll be there for din­ner. Lis­ten, Mom, I got­ta hang up, I’m expect­ing an impor­tant busi­ness call. Yeah, see ya Sun­day. Yeah, Mom, love you too.”

You have reached the office of Har­ry Hawk­er. You may leave a mes­sage at the beep.

“Har­ry. Robert. I’m hit­tin’ the sack. Don’t ring now, I need the shut eye. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Good morn­ing. High­Tech Mar­ket­ing. Mr. Hawk­er’s office.

“Hi, Karen. Robert here. Is Har­ry in? On the phone? OK, have him give me a call when he’s free. Use my cell-phone num­ber. I’m on the expressway.”

Chirp…chirp

“Har­ry, at last! Hey, thanks for call­ing, bud­dy. I’m on my way to town. It’d be great to do lunch. I’ve found a new place. No? OK, lis­ten. Our R&D guys have come up with a voice-acti­vat­ed cell phone no big­ger than a pea. Micro­phone and speak­er fab­ri­cat­ed right on the sil­i­con chip with the elec­tron­ics. New kind of microan­ten­na. Nan­otech­nol­o­gy, they call it. You wear this thing like a hear­ing aid. All the time. You can sleep in it, Har­ry. Think about it. Sleep in it! You dial by voice. Hang up by voice com­mand. The whole thing the size of a pea.

“What’s that? No one wants to wear a hear­ing aid? That’s where you come in, Har­ry. None of this flesh-col­ored hear­ing-aid stuff. We’ll make these things as fash­ion acces­sories. Rasp­ber­ry. Cher­ry. Tan­ger­ine. You’re the mar­ket­ing wiz. Macho metallics for the guys. Sexy pinks and reds for the gals. Make a state­ment. Show the world. This is cut­ting-edge com­mu­ni­ca­tions, Har­ry. The ulti­mate sta­tus symbol.

“Safe­ty? Yeah, Har­ry, I know, I know. I’ve seen reports of the new study by the Wire­less Tech­nol­o­gy Research group. A pos­si­ble cor­re­la­tion between cell-phone use and can­cer. That’s all pro­vi­sion­al, Har­ry, if it’s real at all. Besides, it’s only one study. There’s lots of oth­er research that found no correlation.

“The Aus­tralians? Yeah, I’ve heard of that one too. Mice exposed to pulsed dig­i­tal radi­a­tion. Mice, Har­ry, mice! Mice get can­cer all the time. There’s been no offi­cial action by the FDA. Har­ry, it’s not like we’re putting a radio trans­mit­ter in your head. It’s in the out­er ear. Not the same thing at all.

“But now that I think about it, Har­ry, maybe we can put this thing in the head. It’s small enough. A cell-phone implant. Under the skin like a pace­mak­er. I like it, I like it. I’ll get my guys onto it.

“Think about it, Har­ry. There’s upwards of a 200 mil­lion cell-phones in use in the world. Think of the mar­ket! If we get only a piece of it, we will have the hottest prod­uct since sliced bread. A cell phone in every ear. Twen­ty-four hour chat. Nev­er out of touch.

“Har­ry, lis­ten, I’m on the down­town off-ramp. I could be at your office in…Jeez, a guy just cut me off. Some peo­ple dri­ve like mani­acs. Har­ry, let’s get cell phones out of hands and put ’em in the ear where they belong. Total, ubiq­ui­tous, hands-free satel­lite con­nec­tiv­i­ty. It’s a winner…Beep…Harry, lis­ten, can I put you on hold for a sec? I’ve got a call on the oth­er line.”