It’s difficult for me to appreciate just how important the cell phone has become. I must admit that I am often out-of-touch with the cultural mainstream. I have no idea who the young movies stars are these days. I don’t watch reality or talent-search TV shows, and I still remember Jimmy Carter as being a good President. I don’t have an iPad, and even worse, I never even bought an iPod! I got my first cell phone back in June (and I’m still pretty clumsy when using it). And as you might guess, my phone is the most basic model available, way behind all those sophisticated little devices that everyone stares at and and fiddles with during the “in-between moments” of life. I got it to use in case of emergency (and even then, I might not remember who to call or even remember what buttons to push!).

Being a bit more attuned to the ways of modern America, my brother showed me a little phone trick the other day, something I wasn’t aware of. I.e., that you can turn a cell phone off and on by holding down a certain button. I was previously under the impression that it had to be on all the time. Well, perhaps mine did, as the phone did not come back to life after being powered down, despite pushing and pushing the buttons.

So we drove over to a Verizon store (which I was unfamiliar with, as I had bought the phone on-line) and after a bit of a wait, we finally got to the technical assistance desk. They couldn’t bring my phone back to life either and didn’t have another one like it in stock (too low-end for a glitzy phone store in a suburban mall, I suppose). So they gave me the battery back but kept the phone, promising that a new one would be delivered to my apartment in a few days.

Indeed, a new phone did arrive in a few days. However, there was still an annoying problem. When the store technician took the phone, he kept the cover that goes over the battery. I assumed that this was OK, and that a new cover would come with the replacement phone. But it didn’t. The new phone worked just fine, but without the cover the battery could flip out and be lost. So I called the Verizon customer service line, and after the usual 20 minute wait, a customer rep (from Tuscon, supposedly) heard me out. She tried to direct me back to the store where I brought the phone; I didn’t get a good feeling from that, so I asked if they could just send me a new cover and avoid the whole drama of having the store search for my old one (if they hadn’t yet shipped it to wherever broken phones go). The rep decided to pass the buck to some other department, transferring my call and putting me into a new waiting queue.

Fortunately, the hold for the Verizon parts department, or where ever I was being referred to, was not long. But unfortunately, the representative there was just not going to help me. She made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that my only hope was to contact the store. I asked for an explanation and the representative got right to her point: “we don’t handle Internet orders”. Oh, because I bought my phone via the Verizon web site, I was a second-class customer!

I joined a Zen group not long ago, and I try to meditate every day if possible. In fact, I managed to get a 10 minute “sitting” in just a few minutes before starting this inquiry. I find meditation to be soothing and healing. However, I’m not sufficiently grounded in it yet, as Verizon representative number two managed to get my goat. I made an angry comment to her, hoping for some respect; but when that was not forthcoming, I ended the conversation by making it clear that I was quite unhappy with Verizon and how she was treating me. I honestly did not believe that the representative in question would care, as she seemed quite used to dealing with angry customers. But supposedly the conversation was “being recorded for quality control”, so perhaps the q.c. reviewers would eventually see just why Verizon was making me so unhappy.

Later in the day, I did some “Zen quality control” on myself. Getting angry and acting out about it is not a recommended thing for Buddha-followers. Meditation is supposed to help us develop full control over our emotions. Obviously I had failed; I had created bad karma and negative mind-sets for both myself and that customer rep, simply because of a 2-inch piece of plastic.

Was there anything to say in my defense? Well, in a way; I was responding in the manner that seems to be expected these days when customer service disappoints. I’ve heard plenty of stories both in person and on the media of people standing up against poor customer service. No one ever seems ashamed of what they did; on the contrary, there is a sense of pride and boast. Sometimes there is even bragging, about how they got the seller to give them some bonus to assuage the terrible wrong that was done. Given all that peer pressure, it’s hard not to push the anger button when rude customer service finally happens to you.

That is a relatively weak argument, in the moral sense; just because everyone else gets angry doesn’t mean it is necessarily right. But there is a stronger position, i.e. the conservative position that humans have their dark side and have to be called-out by others when they revert to it. In other words, perhaps an angry response to a lazy customer representative is a social duty; without it, our standards would sink and everyone would suffer (more than we already do). We all have to help each other keep on our toes, even if that is sometimes unpleasant. In places where people could not talk back to those who they depend on for help, such as in the old Soviet Union countries during the 20th Century, social and economic conditions were known to deteriorate to very low levels. Perhaps the world as it is just isn’t ready for Zen.

For now, I’m going to hold those thoughts and not offer a final solution. Zen itself is loath to offer final solutions; that’s the whole point of koan study, where paradoxes and illogical scenarios are held for “deep absorption”. But perhaps I should just tell the rest of the story here and get back to my original point, i.e. how amazed I am about how important the cell phone is to American life these days.

The rest of the story was actually more positive. I later called the store about my battery cover and to my surprise, a customer representative took the time to look around and quickly found it! She put it aside and made arrangements for me to pick it up later in the day. After my earlier experience with the evil rep, I thanked the good rep profusely for taking the initiative to solve my problem. If nothing else, perhaps I would diminish some of my earlier bad karma with some good vibes.

In the evening I went back to the store; I hoped to quickly pick the cover up and leave. Well, that hope was quickly dashed; I had to sign in and get in line for the technical assistance desk. After another 20 minutes or so, the tech rep (my fourth Verizon service rep of the day) heard my story and said “OK, I’ll take a look”. I imagined things turning down again, being told that I would have to come back another day as they can’t get to it after 6 PM or such. But no, after another 10 minute wait, the guy had my phone battery cover. He even put it back on the phone for me, something of a “no hard feelings” gesture.

I was quite impressed by all the people in the store that evening and all the various toys and devices on display. This was a different kind of store than I knew in my younger days. No rows of shelves and racks, no cash registers; instead, plenty of little tables with seats and with devices to examine displayed on them. Also, flat screens along the walls with all sorts of information and video displays. This is the 21st Century store. The service reps mostly stayed behind their counters, but occasionally ventured out to mingle and talk with the customer base (when someone was serious about buying something expensive, I guess). And that customer base seemed quite willing to spend many minutes, maybe even hours, interacting with Verizon. No one seemed to be rushing to get out the door. This seemed to be much more than a dry good store; it was some kind of social institution and ritual.

All revolving around the telephone. Yes, as a techie, I know that the phone has come a long way from the Ma Bell days that I grew up in. Phones today are for instantaneous communications and personal information management; they are personal secretaries in your pocket. They entertain you, inform you, keep your schedule, guide your daily routine, and keep you connected to others. They make you part of a social web on a 24/7 basis (unless you occasionally turn the phone off, as my brother tried to show me). They allow you to go to the supermarket without a list; just call home and ask your significant other if we need more coffee or orange juice. Oh, what movie do you want me to rent for tonight? The public obviously likes this way of life and wants more of it.

So this little cell phone breakdown incident was an interesting if sometimes frustrating and humbling experience for me. It enlightened me about the world that I live amongst (but don’t always take full note of), and showed me something of my own dark side. Hopefully it has furthered my quest for Zen enlightenment (kensho or satori or whatever they call it). At its best, Zen wisdom is not limited to koans and long bouts of silence, broken by some occasional weird chanting. The lessons can come from anything and anywhere. So thanks, Verizon, for your role in my journey, a journey to . . . well, I’ll call (or text, perhaps) and let you know if I ever get there. Can you hear me now?