Ringtones, Alice, and Conway

The cell phones my husband recently chose for us were the ones with “The Network” (if I turned around and saw all those people following me around, I’d head for the hills). This means that all four of my immediate family members, as well as some other relatives and friends, are able to call and text me “free.” Modern technology is so wonderful! The next step for me was that I had to decide on ringtones for the people who call me frequently. This way, I can tell who is calling before I fall and trip on my way to get the phone I left on a distant piece of furniture, in the car, in my pocket yesterday, etc. Still, the act of choosing a ringtone required quite a bit of thought and character analysis. After all, why just choose any old song when one can choose just the right song that is descriptive or especially appropriate for the person? This is how I do things: I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to decide, and thought and thought and thought about it.

Hubby has always been a Conway Twitty fan, so I chose “Hello, Darlin’.” Most of the time this cell phone thing has not disturbed me too much, since I tend to leave the phone somewhere quite often and because, in my elderly state, I cannot deal with loud, sudden noises. The volume is always set fairly low. Still, when we were in the book store the other day, some old guy grinned at me when Conway began singing “Hello, Darlin’—Nice to see you. It’s been a long time…”from the depths of my purse.

Next, Older Daughter, who is easily my most frequent caller, was difficult to consider in terms of song lyrics. I finally chose Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman”; she and her friends, much to my surprise, did not really know this song. They do now; sometimes, when we are talking on the phone, I say, “But are you strong? Are you invincible?” She IS Woman—except when she needs money, somebody hurts her feelings, or she wants her laundry done for tomorrow. Hear her roar.

Younger daughter rings to Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” She does just “wanna” have fun, but she, at the age of eleven, is still much more solemn than I have ever been in my life. I can’t help it.

I thought about my other family members. My little brother (he’s 47) has always been quite a hairy lad. (Once a beauty shop worker was cutting his hair; she had to ask her boss where to stop cutting.) He doesn’t usually call on my cell, but I gave him a ringtone anyway. “Werewolves of London” has always been one of my favorite songs because I get to howl while singing it. (The women in my family are pretty hairy, too, but we won’t discuss that right now.)

My woolly brother’s wife has the happy name of “Joy.” I gave her, “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night, although she never calls me. Bless her heart—I have told her that I can’t help being related to my brother, but she CHOSE him. This information usually doesn’t help with whatever situation is going on.

My mama calls me once a week, usually, or I call her. She rings in to another Three Dog Night classic, “Mama Told Me (Not to Come).” She does usually try to tell me what to do, whether I want her to or not. I’d be amazed if she called me on my cell; she doesn’t really think they should be used unless one’s engine blows up or something.

The default ringtone for everyone else is “School’s Out” by Alice Cooper. That’s the theme song for my life right now. There’s been a miniature Alice Cooper in the back of my brain every May for the last five or six years, singing “School’s out for summer! School’s out forever!” Yep. It is.