The last hold-outs in North

America have capitulated and bought cellular telephone service.

The couple, willing to be interviewed

on condition of anonymity, are rumored to be residents of Fayette County,

Ga., one of the highest-per-capita-income counties in America.

Q: Do you remember the

first time you saw anyone using a mobile telephone?

A: Very well. We were

shopping in Annapolis, Md., when I realized a woman at the produce counter

was talking ­ to someone who wasn't there. Hanging from her shoulder

was a cumbersome battery pack, and her handset was wired in. She was deep

in a conversation that, I believe, had nothing to do with the lettuce

she was turning over in her other hand.

Since then, of course, we've

become almost accustomed to seeing a person walking down the street or

sitting in a restaurant, talking to a fist pressed against their cheek.

Q: You say you are embarrassed

to have contributed to the cellular gap between the United States and

the European nations. Does every family in Europe have a cell phone?

A: No, not a

cell phone ­ many cell phones, at minimum one for each child

old enough to speak. They are much more common overseas. So much so that

in German opera houses, just before the curtain rises, a soothing feminine

voice is broadcast throughout the theater, requesting that patrons turn

off their "handies," as they are known there.

And we've seen knots of young

people on their way home from school, laughing and chattering ­ not

to each other, but to kids in some other knot of laughing and chattering

young people.

Q: What finally made

you capitulate?

A: We travel a lot,

and our kids worry that we're out of touch. Also, they want us to be able

to call for help while traveling, if we need it.

Q: Do you recall your

first trip with the cell phone?

A: Oh, yes. We were

taking our small boat up the Cumberland River in Tennessee and hadn't

been out a day before we noticed "Missed calls." Someone was

trying to reach us. And since our kids and closest friends were sworn

to call only in an emergency, it had to be an emergency. If not, then

it was gobbling up minutes for no good reason.

Hit the Return button, got

a "We're sorry" message informing us we couldn't make that call.

Or we got nothing. Hadn't seen a cell tower in several days, and only

when we were out from between the mountains.

"Missed calls" kept

coming. I was distraught. My husband was disgusted. "That thing is

supposed to spare us anxiety, not cause it," he snarled.

When we finally ran down the

source for the daily "missed calls," it was the phone company

doing routine follow-up with a new customer. I'm convinced it's a ploy

to make customers answer or return calls, for which they dock you a minute,

edging you closer to roaming and long distance fees.

One call we actually did get

was a friend whose mother had died. That call was like most cell phone

calls, only intensified by its seriousness. It went like this: "Can

you hear me? Hello?" "You're breaking up. " "Let me

go outside. Now can you hear me?" "Hello? Are you there? I just

wanted to tell you Mom died. Hello?"

Q: Have you ever wondered

if getting the phone was a mistake?

A: Sure. Every time

we try to use it from home to avoid long distance charges. Our house is

in a dead zone. I have to walk outside to make it work. That's a problem

because I'm usually conferring with my computer-guru-in-law, and the computer

under discussion is, of course, in the house. In the dead zone.

Q: Are you more comfortable

with it now?

A: Of course. You get

used to anything. I use it more than my husband does, however, so we're

not quite in sync. He had it with him in Atlanta where he was taking our

daughter and her friend to a little railroad museum, and needed directions.

I gave him the information, but several minutes later, when I picked up

the phone at home again, I realized he had never clicked "End call."

I could hear them talking ­ "I think she said turn right here."

"No, it's on Peachtree."

I started shouting: "Dave!

Dave! Turn off the phone!"

"What was that?"

I heard. "Sounded like someone calling me." "There, just

across the tracks." I was running out of time. They'd go into the

museum and leave the phone on. "DAVE! DAVE! YOO-HOO!"

"What's that? I bet I

forgot to ­ " I finally heard, and then silence.

Q: Should cell phones

be banned anywhere?

A: While driving ­ that's a no-brainer. And during weddings.

We were in a large church in Atlanta, and during the prayer a phone started

ringing two or three rows in front of us. Its owner, a relative of the

groom, started rummaging through the myriad pockets a man's suit contains.

There's one more place. I was

in a ladies' room when the outer door opened and I could hear a very loud

conversation: "Well, I didn't do it on purpose. Come on, you know

I wouldn't. His number's only one off from Stephanie's and I hit it by

ac ­ No, I have not been trying to get back wi ­ "

The absence of answers made

me realize the speaker was on the telephone. I wondered briefly if perhaps

I should wait until she was done before I made any of the sounds that

are normally heard in a ladies' room. When I heard, "Mom, you know

how " I decided the unknown party was at least another female and

knows what ladies' rooms sound like.

I did what I had to do, washed

my hands, and left them talking.

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