SO I was having lunch with my friends Georgia and Sis, and the former asked me if I was able to forward her text intended actually for a son of some family friends. Let’s just call him Slow Hand. Apparently, she had sent a message to Slow Hand which went unanswered the entire morning. She decided to send the same message to me so I could forward it to him. She presumed that since Slow Hand and I were somewhat friendly to each other, he would respond to me. (He finally did at 12 midnight without so much an apology for the delayed response.)

In the same way that some people lack Netiquette (see “Don’t Call me Liz!” in the June 26 issue), there are many people who just forget their manners when using a cell phone. Like I know a few people who have three to five cell phones on their person (feeling busy!) all the time, and yet can’t text a simple reply or return phone calls.

Then there are those who would request for a common friend’s contact details, for instance. After I send the business card of a friend to the one requesting it, I am sometimes met by silence. There is not even a “thank you” or an acknowledgment from the requesting party that he or she had received the card! (’Fess up folks! You know who you are.)

I can’t help but grouse about this development, which I find troubling considering that all these high-tech gadgets and communications systems were supposed to make the act of “reaching out and touch someone” easier, better. Somewhere along the way, with the rise in usage of these communication devices, all these niceties have apparently fallen by the wayside.

I, for one, am the sort who will try to respond to all text messages or e-mails sent to me within the day. It may take awhile on some occasions, especially when I’m in the middle of an interview or I’m rushing to complete a story assignment, but when I do text back or finally return a missed phone call, I make it a point to apologize for the delay in my response.

And have you noticed how people speak louder than usual when using a cell phone, even when there’s no problem in the connection? What’s up with that? It’s annoying, especially when you’re in a public place like a restaurant, or riding the rail, or even the theater, and the cell-phone user starts yapping away and you are forced to listen to the one-sided conversation.

In times like this, I usually crack the joke about the loud person’s cell phone being obviously brand-new and he’s just testing the volume. Seriously, there is such a thing as using your “inside voice” when you’re on a phone call and are surrounded by other people. It’s the same voice you use while you’re talking to your Father Confessor. (I’m sure my pals will find this hilarious since they fervently believe I do not have an “inside voice”.)

I remember while riding the rail once very early in the morning and all the coaches were packed with commuters, one female passenger suddenly decided to call a friend. And for a few odd minutes, we were all tormented by her one-sided conversation with the unseen party. I don’t know what possessed her to make that phone call and why she was speaking so loudly, but to cut the long story short, some of the men who were as annoyed as I was shouted in unison at the female passenger to shush up. She finally hung up.

Now, when you are inside a theater watching a movie or in church, you really must switch off the ringer of your cell phone, or at least put it on vibrate/silent mode, out of respect to the other moviegoers or attendees to the Mass. And if you must answer the call, please take it outside. I’m glad that some movie theaters now play that funny cartoon telling the viewers to switch off. I’d like our priests and lectors in church to make that same request of Mass-goers as well. (It’s bad enough that some Mass-goers let their kids run around stir-crazy and scream while the priest is hoisting the host. Oof!)

Also switch off or leave your cell phone in your locker when you’re at the gym. One such woman in my yoga class not only did not switch off the ringer on her cell phone, but she also actually answered a phone call while we were in the last stages of our meditation routine and lying supine on the floor in the normally restful corpse pose. From the sound of her voice, the call didn’t even seem that urgent. It took every ounce of the yogi in me to restrain me from yelling at her to shut up. The other girls did. Thank God.

At home, the rule in my family is that when we are taking our meals, all the cell phones should be put aside, preferably off the dining table. There is nothing too important happening in the world to make anyone keep answering text messages or receiving phone calls while eating. In case a very important phone call is actually expected, again, one should take the call outside when it is received and away from the dining table.

Georgia made the case that if we are supposed to peacefully coexist with each other, we ought to be at least polite and courteous to each other even if it’s just while using the cell phone. I agreed. It’s insulting to be met with silence or unanswered text messages. It makes the waiting party feel unimportant and inconsequential. (Of course, if that was your intention to begin with, then start trimming down your phonebook to contacts you do want to keep constantly in touch with.) It also is a pain to torture other people around you with your annoyingly loud cell-phone habits.

I’m not telling you to stop using your cell phone. Just use it more responsibly and with great care to those around you.

****

THOSE who are my age will probably remember the first time they saw or listened to Michael Jackson. In the ’70s, he was a preteen, his voice threatening to break into manhood, and still trying to hit those high notes while his brothers—Marlon, Jackie, Tito and Jermaine—tried their best not to be overshadowed by doing their chuchuwarirap. Oh, yeah, he was still black then, had a flat nose and wore an Afro. But, boy, could he sing and move! He was already the star even at such a young age.

By the late ’70s and into the ’80s he had bravely launched his own solo career and his songs from the albums Off the Wall, Bad and Thriller were some of the best dance tunes my generation had listened and gyrated to. His music videos were also some of the coolest and most elaborately fashioned or choreographed, it made many in my generation want to sing and dance like Michael as well. I tried without much success to do the Moonwalk.

By the ’90s, the hits he churned out had become sporadic and far between. What was worse, his appearance started changing. His complexion turned white. His nose became pert and pretty. Then he acquired a cleft chin. And instead of being with women, as is the custom of someone with his celebrity status and his age, he was spending time with either chimpanzees or children.

The new millennium began and the accusations of pedophilia arose. While the cases against him were either settled out of court or dismissed, there seemingly was no resurrecting Michael’s stalled career. He was slated to do one last concert tour in Europe to begin this month purportedly to help him raise funds to pay off his massive debts. But he suddenly died of cardiac arrest last week.

Since his death, I’ve been sporadically watching Michael’s past performances on Channel V and via YouTube, and I catch myself humming his songs again long after the screen goes dark. His tunes brought me back to that happy time and place in my life where I finally became free to be me, like Michael was free to shine on his own terms. My transition from a relatively sheltered high school to the university life where anything was possible, reflected the changes and vitality in Michael’s career. Indeed, it was a great era for many in my generation.

He may be gone but we will always remember the sensual excitement and fervent joy his music brought to our lives. To you, Michael, the King of Pop, the Moonwalker, the Thriller, we can never say goodbye.