Michael Kelly does without . . . his mobile phone
When did the mobile phone become something we have to bring everywhere? What, exactly, will happen if you leave it behind? Or switch it off? Will the world collapse?
I'm powering down to see what will happen. Nothing does. During the week I count all the times I reach to make a call or send a text. It is scary how often I do it. That little object can be a tough taskmaster. When it bleeps or beeps or rings it expects an immediate reaction. And it usually gets it.
How long do you wait before reading a text that has arrived? Is the text ever as important as the immediate attention it gets? The lie that has been fed to us is that the mobile phone has turned us into great communicators. Rubbish: it isolates us. When you are on a mobile you are in a private world, ignoring the events going on around you. The mobile plays to our innate shyness: we can get in touch with people without having to meet or even talk to them.
Still, I can't help feeling vaguely uneasy. What if something happens and someone needs to contact me? Of course, in all likelihood, nothing will happen. And if it does, and it's that important, whoever it is will manage to get in touch about whatever it is.
There are times when the mobile phone seems to be the perfect form of communication. My nephew is starting school, and I want to text my sister, to wish them luck. I ask Mrs Kelly to send it instead, but, in the spirit of the column, she won't play ball. "That's cheating," she says.
So I pick up the landline phone and call my sister. Texting would have been so easy - and so lazy. A text saying "Hope things go well 2tomorrow" would have taken 20 seconds to send. The phone call takes 20 minutes. But, of course, I feel the better for it.
Later in the day we are heading away for the weekend, and I realise in the car that a builder is coming to do a job in the house. I haven't let him know we won't be there.
Again Comdt Kelly won't cooperate. "Oh, for God's sake. Nobody will ever know," I say in a huff. The text goes unsent, and I try to ignore the minor panic gurgling in my stomach.
I'm interested to know how many texts and voice messages have built up on my mobile, which is sitting forlornly in a drawer in the kitchen. Interested. But not obsessed.
Power down. Enjoy the freedom.