Misha Crews

The following story is absolutely true. Absolutely pointless, probably; but true, nonetheless:

 

Act One: In Which My Phone is Cheeky and Has Great Taste In Music

Right before noon today, I was in a convenience store (looking for a little convenience) and I heard the well-loved opening chords of one of my favorite songs: “Careless,” by Sarah Harmer. It sounded like it was coming over the loudspeaker.

“How cool!” I thought, marveling at this particular store’s musical savvy. It was nice to hear something besides the usual eight or nine songs that are played everywhere, all the time, with coma-inducing regularity.

Then I realized (much to my embarrassment) that the song was actually playing on my phone. Sometimes when I get in my car and the phone connects via Bluetooth, the Google music app comes on and plays a random song. I find this sort of endearing, and I always make sure to thank the phone when it happens (my parents raised me to be polite, after all). But this loveable little glitch had never occurred randomly while I was shopping.

Not bothering to think through the whims of electronic devices, I pulled the phone out of my purse and hit pause.

But it didn’t pause. It kept playing, and it was louder now that it was out in the open.

 

Act Two: In Which Things Become Embarrassing (but Potentially Profitable)

Since I’m the kind of person who never, ever, likes to call attention to herself in public, I began to panic.

What if the phone refused to be quiet? What if it just went on playing “Careless” over and over again until I dropped it on the floor and stomped on it? What if the whole episode was caught on camera and broadcast repeatedly on local TV?

(Side-thought #1: Is there still such a thing as local TV? Side-thought #2: Hm, could be good for my book sales.)

What did this thing want from me, anyway?

I tapped and swiped at the screen frantically, saying “Shhhh! Shhhh!” as if it were a fussy baby. Finally I succeeded in turning the volume way down, and then I was able to get the thing to pause. I closed the app, returned the phone to my purse….

And the song started again.

This time, of course, I was battle-toughened and retained my senses. I paused the song, closed all my apps, and turned the phone volume all the way off. (Not sure why I didn’t just turn the phone off altogether, but as they say, everything is clearer in retrospect).

I quickly finished my shopping and returned to my car. I halfway expected the song to start again the moment the Bluetooth connected, but the phone was silent. Apparently, its work was done.

 

Act Three: In Which the Phone Phenomenon Is Dissected

Now, I know that obviously there is a logical explanation for this. Maybe another Bluetooth device with a similar signal to my car’s was activated nearby, causing a well-known glitch to – well – glitch.

But here’s the thing: I’m a writer. I don’t want the logical explanation. I want the fun explanation. I want to think that my phone is able to predict the future, cause crop circles to form, and influence programming on television. (More Man in the High Castle and TURN, please, and let’s just cancel every reality show, ever, shall we?)

So, bearing in mind that the fun explanation is the correct explanation, the truth presents itself with blinding clarity:

My phone is an electronic version of the Ouija board, and it’s sending messages from The World Beyond.

But why this song? Why now? Those are questions I can’t quite answer. So I’m including both the lyrics and the song, itself, below. (Give it a listen, if you have the time: it’s really great.)

And tongue-in-cheek attitude aside, if you have any insights for me, I would be glad to hear them. I don’t really think that this incident “means something,” but I don’t really not think that, either. As always, I am open to the possibilities.

Woke up
In my head I heard your voice saying something
Deep in the fog that was covering me
You said, “Why don’t you call or at least call back sometime?”

And I fell back to the past and the grace that I lacked
Blind in the praise that was smothering me
Now I’ve left it so long, coasting along
But I know, oh, I was wrong

Maybe my carefree has been careless
Maybe the story was half true
All the words that I’ve held too close to my chest
Are calling on me now to get through

So I thought maybe I’d call and that would be all
Clear out regrets that were hovering here
But how could I get to a place that’s so distant now
Back then I knew right away and still I didn’t say

Under my breath I was muttering
And from the start I gave just part of my heart
And now I see what I did
What I did

Maybe my carefree has been careless
Maybe the story was half true
All the words that I’ve held too close to my chest
Are calling on me now to get through

I’ll be hollering out the words that I meant to use
I’ll be hollering out the words that I meant to use

Maybe my carefree has been careless
Maybe the story was half true
All the words that I’ve held too close to my chest
Are calling on me now to get through