The VIEW from here

Excuse me — I must have ‘dialed’ the wrong number


Gary Gould — Managing Editor

Gary Gould — Managing Editor

I ’ve discovered my cellphone sometimes has a mind of its own. Well, maybe not the phone itself, but rather my backside sitting on it.

I’m apparently a habitual buttdialer. I have inadvertently called a number of random people in my contacts list on the phone at all hours of the day and night because of my insistence on keeping the blasted thing in my pocket.

I’ve been given cases to carry my cellphone around in before and, honestly, they are just annoying. You clip them on your belt, to your waistband or dangling from a pocket and they fall off, get stuck on things or they are just plain difficult to pull the phone from when it’s ringing.

So I prefer keeping the phone in my back pocket. It seems like a fine place to keep a phone, but it also seems to make me prone to making phone calls without knowing who I’m calling.

My friend Craig has been the subject of a few butt-calls in the recent past. I’ve gotten text messages from him telling me that I’d butt-dialed him on several occasions. During one such call, he said he could overhear me talking to someone using some rather unpleasant language to describe a person I was not particularly fond of.

OK, that was a little embarrassing.

More embarrassing was last Thanksgiving when I butt-dialed the zoning administrator for a local municipality. I was on the way to Thanksgiving dinner and apparently sat on my phone, calling through to the official while he was at home preparing for his own holiday feast.

The next time we spoke, he asked me what the call was about on

Thanksgiving. Explaining it was simply a misplaced buttdial, he laughed and made sure to ask me after Christmas why I hadn’t given him a similar yuletide salute.

Thankfully some people have a sense of humor.

My most recent butt-dial victim was my sister. At the time I wrote this I hadn’t yet asked her to see if she’d gotten my 9 a.m. mistaken call, but it happened right in the middle of a staff meeting at the newspaper.

It says the call lasted almost two minutes, so I’m assuming she likely heard the Monday morning details of what my week looked like. Having recently retired, I’m sure waking up to my cellphone randomly calling her wasn’t the way she’d planned to start her day. Sorry sis — I’ll try not to let it happen again.

I need to work on being a little more careful with my phone from now on, but there is one reassuring aspect to my penchant for butt-dialing — at least my backside hasn’t learned yet how to text message so I don’t have to worry about it getting me into trouble where that’s concerned.

ggould@mihomepaper.com


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