No Phone Zone

Have you heard about Oprah's No Phone Zone? I'm sympathetic, really I am. I get annoyed beyond relief at the dingaling (pun intended) drivers who pull into the left lane, lower their speed to 60, and start talking on the phone. I only talk in the right lane. Aren't I good?

And I do text. But I only text when there are no cars around. And I look up between each character. How many points on the "You're Not an Unsafe Driver" scale do I get for that behavior?

Since leaving Tucson twenty-three months ago, I have put eighty thousand miles on my car. That's an "8", followed by four—count 'em, four!—zeroes. 80,000.

If I signed on for Oprah's No Phone Zone pledge, I would totally lose touch with all my friends. My drive time is my sacred communication time. I call my mother every morning, whether she hears the phone ring and answers, or not. I call the Traveler, who arrives at his Tucson office before 5:30, and is always happy to hear from me. I call PianoLady to see if I can get her before she heads to the gym or Starbucks. I call my long-time buddy JW in Rochester, who always makes me feel like I've performed a great service to mankind, or to that man, by calling. On the evening commute, it's the perfect time to catch up with friends in Tucson. I've arranged lots of get-togethers for my March trip simply by holding the iPhone to my ear while I'm driving home.

How do I feel about the possibility of laws prohibiting me from picking up my phone while I'm driving? I feel like they're going to create a whole damned lot of wasted hours! Oh, yeah, and boredom.