Attempting to disconnect from reliance on cell phones

MY NEW YEAR’S resolution is simple. I want to care less.

Specifically, I want to care less about my vibrating cell phone.

If by the end of 2008 I’m the guy whose phone rings annoyingly for three or four minutes before he looks up and says, “Oh – is that my phone?” it’ll be a fantastic year.

Here’s a typical series of calisthenics while I’m driving:

My left leg twitches. Surely, I figure, my phone is vibrating. So I start groping my legs, patting myself down like a TSA inspector. Left pocket. Right pocket. Shirt pocket. Coat. But then I realize my phone’s on the seat next to me, or on my desk at work, or charging at home.

I’ve imagined the whole missed call. People in other cars must look at me and say, “Whoa, what’s that guy’s problem?”

I’ll tell you my problem: I’m on the receiving end of phantom vibrations from phantom calls made by phantom friends.

And it’s not just me. In September, Alliant International University in California announced that two-thirds of people in a study reported hearing their phone ring or feeling it vibrate when it was doing absolutely nothing. The study’s authors called the problem “ringxiety.” USA Today and CNN also reported on the phenomenon last year.

Meanwhile, I already worry plenty. How far can I make it when my gas gauge is at E? When does iTunes reach unsustainable proportions? Why can’t I get past the third chapter of “Atonement ”?

I don’t want to worry about becoming a slave to the buzz, as well.

I’d like to say, oh so cavalierly, that in the new year I’ll let my phone ring, buzz and dance all over. And if I’m in the mood, then and only then, I’ll start feeling around for my cellie.

For now, Sprint’s conditioned me to act otherwise.

All the vibrations come with a certain urgency – I must be missing something, like a joke from “Superbad” or lunch plans. But when I flip open the phone, there’s nothing breaking. At best, there’s a text message asking me if I’m watching the game. Or a missed-call alert from a wrong number.

And for this I’m giving up a little bit of my sanity.

Technically, I could get by without a cell phone. I’m not an important person. No one needs to reach me immediately. The most often my phone is in use is at the grocery store. “Did you say we need flat parsley? Where is that? All they have is Italian parsley and fresh parsley. Oh. Fresh parsley and flat parsley are the same thing? OK. Really? You’re sure?”

Soothsayers predict 2008 will be known as the year of “Facebook suicides.” People will kill their online profiles so they can disconnect from being so connected. It’s virtual claustrophobia.

I guess I’m taking a similar step with my phone.

I’m a big proponent of technology. But I draw the line when my body starts undergoing physical changes.

How do I know I’ve played too many video games? Blisters. How do I know I’ve been in the car too long? My lower back aches. How do I know it’s time to slowly back away from the cell phone?

Sorry, my leg is twitching. I need to take a call.

Ok. I’m back. Nevermind. It was nothing.

The solution is simple. I’m not going to keep my phone in my pocket anymore.

I’m not the droid Sprint’s looking for.

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277, mike.gruss@pilotonline.com