Incommunicadoitis...is it treatable or is it just in my head?

THERE IS NO CURE FOR THE COMMON COLD...YET. 
So why, in this age of scientific marvels, do we continue to suffer? Emperor...I mean...President Ming can talk about wanting billions to build his Space Force ("Curse you Flash Gordon!") or for enough Legos to construct a wall, but there is no mention of allocating the funds needed to stave off the upcoming pandemic...Incommunicadoitis!

The cause is so obvious it literally is at the tip of your tongue. Those affected could be in the billions. The only ones less likely to suffer would be in the remotest regions of the planet, but even those few individuals could be at risk as the caps melt and the forests are cut and hauled away. What can be done to stave off this impending disaster?

Have you ever walked out of the house in a hurry, jumped in your vehicle and headed for work or an appointment or the shops or an illicit call for booty and realized you forgot your phone?
Now in the past forgetting your PHONE it was no big deal. There were pay phones at almost every street corner or 7-11. Inconvenient? Yes, but not tragic.  We no longer just have cell phones. We carry the connection to our entire world in our pants pockets! We are the world! We're plugged into the MATRIX! And it will never let you go, Mr. Anderson.  (They should've stopped after the first one.)

Panic ensues! You are suddenly afraid you will miss something. It needn't be anything specific nor important, but you are gripped with gut wrenching angst. What if you miss a meme or that all important wave or friend request? You are now incommunicado. The umbilical has been unwittingly severed. You are infected.

The warning signs that your immunity to the sickness is failing include; swollen thumb knuckles, the inability to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds without furtive glances at your palm, cauliflower ear on  the dominant hand side of your head, increased selective listening skills, food amnesia as well as  a gradual lessening of libido. In the not so distant past while lovers embraced the afterglow, they lit cigarettes as they enjoyed the blissful state. Today there might be bliss and a final loving embrace, but dollars to doughnuts while laying cheek to cheek (not those cheeks) there's a device over each lover's shoulder being thumbed for the latest tweet or post! That fear of not being connected is Incommunicadoitis in it's early stages.

If you find you have any or all of the aforementioned symptoms where can you go to get help? You certainly can't go to the government federal, state nor local. They won't even look at you while you try to explain your fears! You suddenly realize they are reading and tweeting back to the "@realdt" not having heard a word you've said. You can seek medical assistance from your family physician but sitting in the waiting room you realize you are only one of many and there is no help there for you either.

You must find Patient Zero! Easy as pie. (Is that a reference to pi or pie? Haven't figured that out yet. Finding for pi isn't that easy nor is making a pie from scratch. Don't know about that expression. See blog post from last week for more on similar subject.) PZ is the jerk who came up with low cost unlimited text and data plans as marketing tools for your provider! Holy Crap! It has been Hell ever since. Remember when sending a text cost 25 cents and receiving one cost 15 and you had to pay by the minute for calls? No. Because you had the phone since you were 13 and your parents paid for it. How many times did you get chewed out for adding additional charges to the monthly bill? Today you don't have to worry about it. It's unlimited. The germ began spreading with an addiction akin to crack cocaine.

It happened to me. I left the house and forgot my phone. When I realized it so many things flashed in my mind. What if I get a flat or break down (or have a breakdown) or one of the kids needs me or my wife wants me...no I mean wants me!? I am cut off! My lifeline has been severed by a simple omission. I forgot my communication device. I am virtually incommunicado! I experienced the initial panic of Incommunicadoitis which gave way to self analysis, which resulted in my regaining some semblance of calm.

Having traveled for business over the years with but a pay phone and eventually a pager as a means of communication, I should have been able to handle this. As I ran my errands I could feel my well-being ebbing as I saw almost every face framed in the light of their tiny screens, eyes narrowed, fingers poised, then flying across the pad as they responded to a contact somewhere out there in the world.

Tell the truth. I may be exaggerating but you know much of this is true. We have become dependent  on our devices for almost everything. It is a plot...a well conceived and executed plan to control our lives by anticipating our wants more than our needs. Take your significant other or a complete stranger to dinner. Where does the iPhone go? Is it turned off and safely tucked in a pocket or in a handbag or is it sitting among the cutlery making little beeps or dings as important info is transferred across the ether? Do you even hold a romantic conversation with a potential for l'amour  or are you both reading the latest posts on the feeds you follow? What has happened to the art of seduction while gazing romantically into their eyes face to face? Of course this could be one of those meet me 'round the corner in a half an hour dates arranged on  ap designed for hooking up.

Imagine life without your phone (iPhone, Android, Windows). Could you make it one day without it? Could you do half a day without looking? I mean how many calls do you really make in a day? Exactly. If you get chills just thinking about not being connected to that thing in your pocket you have already got it...Incommunicadoitis. I am there with you my friend. It's both strange and sad.


Quick! Dial the phone! Neo! They found us!
We are all in danger!
We know where you are Mr. Anderson!
You just can't hide from the damned Wachowski brothers' vision of our
future! Or is it happening now? Find Patient Zero. I'll be waiting here by the phone!