Every so often, I watch a DVD I have of this old Bruce Willis movie called Last Man Standing. It’s not an especially great movie. Actually, it’s probably not even good, but all sorts of people and things blow up or get shot and Bruce has some really cool guns, so I sort of enjoy it. It’s bloody, dirty and pointless, like taking archery practice on a hobo, but it makes me feel all tough by the time it’s over. In case you’re wondering, Bruce Willis is actually the last man standing as the final credits roll. Whatever the title lacks in suspense, it more than makes up for in accuracy. Either way, it always seemed cool to me that he was truly the last man standing. These days, I feel like I’m almost the last man standing and it just feels sort of weird.

My Last Man Standing situation is not a life and death sort of deal, but I do take it very seriously. My friend, Todd, the big pussy, finally caved in and got a cell phone. The last time I saw him, he pulled out one of those fancy iPhones. I’m not sure if it makes it worse that he got a really nice phone, but I have to assume it does. It doesn’t matter much either way since he and I were pretty much the last guys I knew who hadn’t jumped on board the cell phone bandwagon. Now it’s just me ... and possibly my friend, Adam, but I haven’t seen him for awhile. I feel like one of those idiots who said television was a flash in the pan.

I don’t blame Todd because he has a cell phone. I hate him, but I don’t blame him. There but for the grace of god, go I. In fact, I’ve come pretty close myself to entering this zany world of the cell phone, but every time I got close to purchasing one, I’d see some self-important douche bag with a headset stuck in his ear walking down the street talking to himself and I would just think, “C’mon, you’re better than that.” I could just never quite pull the trigger on it. I may now though, since Todd is my friend and misery loves company.

The thing is, I just see cell phones as the enemy. First of all, anyone who really knows me and needs to find me immediately would have no problem discovering my location. I’m either at home or at one of three or four bars. It’s not exactly rocket science to track me down. Second of all, as I’ve said before, I find their immediacy stifling. Every action in one’s life doesn’t need to be related to another person. “Oh, hey, I’m at the grocery store and just thought I’d call and say hello. Wow, they’ve got a really good special on Black Forrest ham. How was your day?”

I remember when we all had land lines, I would call my buddy in St. Louis and we’d talk for an hour or two once a week. We were both tethered to the wall with a phone cord and we’d tell each other drinking and girl stories from the previous week. Neither of us were driving or shopping or walking down the street, so we actually paid attention to what the other person was saying. We actually listened and responded instead of simply waiting for the other person to finish so we could talk. I looked forward to it every week. He got a cell phone and we haven’t really talked in years.

When I think about it, I can’t believe I’ve never got one. I mean, as a child, I used to love Star Trek and I can remember thinking how cool it was that they could communicate with the mother ship just by flipping open a little box and talking. Of course, they were always fighting Klingons and shit, so they probably really needed immediate communication. I’m not sure calling someone from my car on the way home from work to tell them about my day qualifies as the same kind of necessity. I guess necessity changes depending on a person’s circumstances.

So, just like the movie, it turns out it’s not all that great to be the last man standing. I feel like I’m in Jonestown and everyone I know is laying dead on the ground with a half-drank cup of Kool-Aid in their hands. “Geez, everybody else did it and even though it looks like it sucks, I’m not going to stand here by myself like some sort of dipshit. It’s probably easier to just jump on board and get the whole thing the hell over with.”

The whole exercise of holding out is sort of pointless. It seems much easier now to just pussy out and get one. Who knows, if it works out, I might even get Internet access at home and maybe even an iPod. If it all goes well, I can talk to people wherever I am, e-mail people instead of actually seeing them and have a constant soundtrack of my life playing in my head at all times. I’ll be almost fully functional and up-to-date. I seriously doubt I’ll be any happier, but I’m sure they’ll come out with some sort of gizmo to help me with my joy any day now. Geez, I really hope not.