Ringtones

I've had the same cell phone for three years now. The once-impeccable, once-ground-breaking camera feature snaps only blurred, poorly pixilated pictures due to an unknown injury sustained by the lens at some point; one keypad button is finally beginning to not function properly, requiring multiple attempts to enter a '3'; and while others' phones come equipped with topographical maps of any geographical coordinate in the world, my cell phone's big bragging right is its E-Z Tip Calculator feature, which computes (1) simple money-related math that could be done by any fourth-grader and (2) the same answers for the same math problems that you could have used the regular calculator feature for. Its digital face and diminutive size are about the only things keeping it from being mistaken for a "Saved by the Bell" prop.

However, it gains my respect with its very limited selection of ringtones. All I have are the basics: the standard cell phone ring, a few more uptempo versions of the standard cell phone ring, and something that vaguely resembles the "Happy Birthday" song, I suppose to pathetically and self-righteously garner congratulatory wishes for your day-long celebration with every call received in that 24-hour period.

Personally, I like the standard cell phone ringtone. Why? Because it sounds like a cell phone ringtone. When someone calls me, I can't confuse it for a jack-in-the-box or a youth group trip to the roller rink.

I know this makes me unpopular, but, man, I despise those Top-40 ringtones. It's one of those creative, marketable ideas someone came up with and acted on without first experimenting with it in public. There's no 12-second snippet of any song's chorus that sounds good coming out of a Canadian dime-size speaker. And hearing the same, sudden blitzkrieg of noise repeat three to five times per call wears me out. And it's not even my cell phone on my hip -- I'm just the victimized bystander to the onslaught of noise pollution. I have no idea how that doesn't get on the owner's nerves for each call. Doesn’t the novelty diminish by the third phone call?

I suppose if we were in a club, or it was 1989 and we were playing basketball on a concrete court with chain nets, the ringtone would match the atmosphere. But the "ringtune" and the atmosphere agree maybe 2% of the time; otherwise, it sounds tackier than words can describe. Think of the last time you heard a random chorus blare from a cell phone in/at one of the following locations: church, class, work (especially a meeting), library, wedding, funeral, movie theater, restaurant, or anywhere wooded or outdoorsy. Tell me your blood didn't immediately curdle with animosity at the annoyance of that ringtone. And you're kidding yourself if you say the annoyance isn't worse when it's an actual song fragment.

As if I needed yet another reason to not like the Black Eyed Peas.