I've been living happily without a cell phone for 3 weeks. Some three weeks ago I had to return it to the cellphone shop from whence I bought it from as it needed repair. I called the shop on Thursday morning 11 September telling them my phone needed servicing. They told me I needed to bring in my contract with the phone to honour the warranty privilege. I fished around at home, found the contract, phew. I raced to the shop on my way to work. Sign on the door, 'back in 10 minutes'. Ok I thought, I'll come by after work, late night shopping no hassle. 7:30pm, sign says closed, contradicting the official opening hours posted next to the 'closed' sign, of 9pm closure.
Friday morning 12th Sep. I return. Nat is on the desk this morning. She's a young lady who's mind was on the coming weekend's clubbing. (I could tell). She takes my phone telling me she'll contact me when it's ready. I say don't you want my landline numbers seeing my cell phone's in repair?? Sure she says scribbling down the numbers as i spell them out carefully to her.
The company takes the name of a number. It used to be called 'Orange'. I like orange, I like anything with the word 'orange' in it.
Last Thursday, 2 weeks into the repair job, I call the store politely asking about the phone repair's progress. Someone I hadn't spoken to previously answered the phone. She had trouble understanding english, or my english anyway. Away from the handset she asked Nat about my phone. I heard Nat say from a safe distance that it's not ready and "we'll call him when it's ready". This was repeated to me by the salesperson in broken english. Fine I thought, I'll wait for my call and in the meantime I bask in the realisation I'm enjoying life without the blasted, blasting cell phone.
Today I called the store. It was the guy I spoke to originally who answered. Again, polite as cream puff I ask him if, perchance, has my phone been repaired?? He paused, the phone was in the store and had been for a while, he tells me. (I had a suspicion this was the case..!) I heard a muffled Nat a metre or so from the handset say "..I called him.." The man came back to the handset to tell me Nat left a message for me on my cell phone to inform me that my phone had been repaired and was now available for collection. I suddenly let out a loud hoot, I guffawed, and broke out into a belly laugh that rocked the equilibrium of a quiet library.
"My...phone...was...with...you...!!! ...being...repaired...!!!", each word chucked out along with uncontained, uncontrollable spasms of laughter. I continued laughing, cahooting, chortling. I was having myself a grand old time. The man timorously ventured to offer up an awkward-sounding explanation of appeasement amidst my unrestrained jollity that made it seem all the more comic for me, "....er....your phone is available for collection.....".
I continued laughing, and kindly thanked him, and hung up the phone still laughing away. No hard feelings, I actually don't care. It's been terrific living without one of these radioactive appendages at my beck and my call for 3 weeks. Tomorrow, Friday, I go back to the store to pick up the phone, and it'll be Nat who'll be at the desk. I may yet have another laugh in store.
Laughing is good, a laugh a day keeps the senses vibrant, the feelings happy, and the blood-pressure down. I needed that.
Jann Wenner, legendary editor of Rolling Stone magazine, is currently in Sydney launching a new publisher, or "carrier", for the Australian version of the magazine. He looked fit & fantastic on the photo of him in the paper. Starting the magazine from a San Francisco loft in 1967 with an outlay of $7500 Jann Wenner was, as much as anyone, in the right place at the very right time.
Jann Wenner interviewed John Lennon back on 8 December 1970, eerily an exact decade prior to the day of Lennon's death, in 1980. Over the years Jann has tirelessly ridden the wave of modern rock-culture, interviewing the cream of the rock and political crop since 1967. My favourite era of Rolling Stone is the mid-seventies. My sister left me a 10-year commemerative issue dating from 1977. Too many hi-fi system adverts in it. The photos of which there are many are great. Most if not all of the stars looked washed out, grubby, and drug-fucked. Yeah that was a golden age for a great magazine.
I like golden ages. In Australia the seventies was a golden age for theatre and "permissive" television (remember Number 96 anyone??...I don't, I was too young!)
Neil Finn played at this party of Wenner's last night in Sydney. He's very quiet he is, Neil Finn. Doesn't appear to write a blog. I'm not huge on Neil, I sort of have a love/hate relationship with him and his songwriting. It would have been great if the Church performed instead or along with Mr Finn. The Church instead did a corp gig two nights ago at the site of a dilapidated gas station up in Victoria Street Darlinghurst, next to Kings Cross. I'm in need of my live Chrunch fix now. It's been too long (almost a year). Kilbey's doing some solo sets around the place over the coming month. I may mosey down and enjoy hearing the man and his 12-string guitar. Join me if you do please. There's gotta be a thing such as...travelling at the speed of light, you'll be in Sydney in a flash!!
Good night, saving my laughter for the cellphone shop tomorrow. ;)
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