COLUMN: Hooked on Nokia instead of nicotine

From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '00 From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '00I always wanted to pick up a smoking habit. That is, until modern technology stepped in. After all, smoking can be very, very cool. Even after being inculcated with threats of lung cancer and shortness of breath, this fact still holds true. Apparently, no one ever told the anti-smoking campaign that those under 25 will never fear their mortality.From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '00I always wanted to pick up a smoking habit. That is, until modern technology stepped in. After all, smoking can be very, very cool. Even after being inculcated with threats of lung cancer and shortness of breath, this fact still holds true. Apparently, no one ever told the anti-smoking campaign that those under 25 will never fear their mortality. A beer and a tight black shirt look so much better with the casual cigarette. And smoking can be such a help at work. During my summer internship, smoking breaks were allowed for those with the habit -- every 45 minutes the bad boy bankers left their seats for a social outing. Inevitably, an exclusivity founded on the common addiction grew, leaving good girls like me out. Yes, until last week, I had always wanted to need a smoke. Unfortunately, I had been told multiple times that I look like a schmuck with a cigarette. Goodbye, habit. I seemed destined to rely on a moderate caffeine addiction for substance-abuse fun. Enter the cell phone. After an ill-fated road trip to Boston left me stranded on the Massachusetts Turnpike, I decided I would buy the fanciest cell phone as soon as I reached a city. The first time I received a call on my cellular, I realized that I no longer needed any sort of habit, addiction or obnoxious smelling puff. I was hooked on Nokia, quickly and completely. Do not underestimate the power of the cell phone ring. With a subtly insistent brrriiing, the world learns about a person. Someone needs to talk to this person right now. This person is in demand. This person is very important. This person needs to make plans to meet her roommate for sushi in 15 minutes. The government is currently determining how to best allocate billions of dollars from the anti-tobacco settlement to prevent kids from thinking that smoking is cool. They have repeatedly failed over the span of our formative years; "Just say no" was only useful for a few Saturday Night Live jokes and the surgeon-general never could compete with a single smoking hottie in my high school class. Some cellular telephone companies may have found a better solution for these anti-drug campaigns. Instead of investing millions in a few unimaginative billboards, Philip Morris can instead buy every teenager a cell phone. I am only half joking. Certainly the cell phone solution would at least begin to address the fundamental motivations behind teenage addiction. While the soothing effects of nicotine are real, the reason that 16 percent of our nation's 14-year-olds pick up a smoking habit is that 16 percent of their friends are doing it, too. Even I wanted an addiction when I walked out of Bennett Hall my freshman year and was greeted by a group of very intelligent looking, very well dressed, very smoking English majors. The benefits of a cell phone are quite similar to those of a cigarette with regards to peer pressure. Something to hold in your hand. Something to distract while talking to undesirables. The steps of Van Pelt have never been so full of members of a harmless counterculture as it is with gabbing gossipers. Admittedly, cell phones have their detractors. Critics have some silly notion of the benefits of being out of touch. These people have a strong and often detrimental sense of individuality. I'll bet they smoke. You can be sure that one day cell phone users will be relegated to certain sections of restaurants and cellulars will be prohibited on public transportation. I caught a glimpse of that day on a crowded bus, when my tell-tale ring elicited groans from fellow passengers and one man said to me, "Spare us." No doubt, the world will be a bit more anti-social with the proliferation of the cellular. Face-to-face chats will all but cease, and monthly conversation will be regulated to 500 minutes. But I will finally be part of the cool addicted crowd, with little physical danger besides the small risk of brain cancer. And who worries about brain cancer when they are 21?