By JOHN DARLING  September 3, 2006

for the Mail Tribune

They are the few. The proud. The out of touch.

They don't own cell phones. And mostly, they're pretty happy about it.

Sure, there are times when it would be awfully convenient to have one, like on a long trip or when a family member is ill, but mostly, the non-celled balk at the expense, the claims of health questions and the ever-increasing intrusion of chip-driven devices into their private lives.

"You're walking in lovely Lithia Park, enjoying nature, and along comes a guy talking on his cell phone and you're right back in the busy world. It kind of ticks me off," says Ashland City Councilman David Chapman.

"I don't even like my home phone. When people ask me why I don't have a cell phone, I say, 'Why would I want one?' I prefer being unconnected, with no one able to get in touch with me."

For Jack Thompson, director at Southern Oregon Tennis Club, the home and work phones are plenty, and he says he returns voicemails quickly.

"Never had a cell phone. My life goes on as normal. If I had one, I wouldn't use it much. My life is less cluttered this way. My wife has one for trips," says Thompson.

What really drove it home for Thompson was, during visits to tennis clubs in California, he was shocked to see tennis pros answering cell phones during lessons, keeping their students cooling their sneakers at $55 per hour.

"Very rude. Not professional," says Robinson. "We have the rule here. Cell phones are turned off."

Ashland filmmaker Will Wilkinson used to have a cell, but, pleading health concerns and a lifestyle of "voluntary simplicity," he tossed it.

"It's the whole environment thing. Voluntary simplicity means you don't have things you don't absolutely need," he says. "We have one car and no cell phone. It's less money I need to make, so it's less burden on the environment making that money."

As for safety issues, chiefly the common dread of car breakdowns far from home, Wilkinson says he'd prefer to count on the kindness of strangers, as happened with a breakdown in Mexico.

"We got help right away from lots of people and none of them had cell phones," he says. "A cell phone might have been a convenient, time-saving device but it makes you unconscious, kind of hypnotized. You're not aware of the possibilities for you to interact in the real world. Being without one stimulates the brain to think."

Murray Huggins, a Medford bagpipe maker and father of two, asks, "Why do we need to be in touch 24/7? It's slightly neurotic and dependent. There used to be pay phones all over and if you needed one, you might spend a dollar a month on them. But they're taking them all out and now we're spending 50 times that."

After many years cell-free, Huggins finally relented, getting his first cell phone this week as part of a package deal with Internet service.

"He came home and said, 'Don't be mad at me, but I got one,' " says his wife, Yoko. "I don't know about cell phones. I hate to sign for two years and pay 50 bucks a month. We're not using it that much."

Another busy Ashland City Council member, Cate Hartzell, eschews the cellular life, saying "it's really important to live a life where sometimes you're simply not accessible."

But, like many cell-free folk, Hartzell's main concerns are economic — "the two-year contracts are not beneficial to medium and low-income people" — and health-related.

"I'm not convinced that the towers and cell phone technology are healthy," she says, "and I don't want to contribute to that."

When she got her son a cell, Hartzell did considerable research to find the phone that "would do the least damage to his brain and most reduce the amount of electromagnetic radiation."

Electromagnetic radiation is emitted by any electrical device, and the phones' signals are simple radio waves, although some cell towers use microwaves to relay phone signals over long distances. But because the relatively weak EMF-producing phones are held next to the brain, some are concerned.

Chapman agrees: "I would beware if I used them ... . The science isn't out yet on this."

Jennifer Walsh of Sprint headquarters in Kansas said in an interview that Sprint is "committed to the safety of our customers" and that all phones meet radio emission guidelines of the FCC (Federal Communications Commission), EPA (Environmental Protection Agency), FDA (Food and Drug Administration) and OSHA (Occupational Health and Safety Administration) and "we are comfortable with that."

Most cell-free people confess to borrowing phones from friends for important, unanticipated calls, but deny feeling like dinosaurs — tied to obsolete landlines.

"Dinosaur? Call me a troglodyte is you will. It doesn't bother me," says Chapman. "I still wear corduroy pants."

Notes Hartzell, "If they figure out in 10 years that they do cause cancer, just like it took them so long to figure out about cigarettes, who's going to be the dinosaur?"

While countless Web sites sound klaxons over the radio and electromagnetic frequency hazards of cell phones, the FDA has so far found no cause for alarm. According to its Web site, the agency has found no solid evidence of a health risk but "in the near future" plans to "identify knowledge gaps that may warrant additional research."

But it's not just perceived biological threats that avert cell-phone avoiders. Citing a recent local crash between a bicyclist and a cell phone-using motorist, Hartzell said driving while cell-chatting "splits the attention and causes more accidents."

The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration agrees, noting that its study placing video cameras inside cars found users of cell phones and other devices caused "far more crashes" and near-misses than non-users.

Retired architect John Fisher-Smith of Ashland says he shuns cell phones because they lead to a false sense that anything can be planned at the last minute.

"You only wonder why you can't live without a cell phone because you are dependent and have set up your life that way," he says. "People in business now are expected to pick up their phone anywhere, any time, or be considered unreliable."

Being cell-free can be a lot like being a non-smoker in a smoky bar, with cell-free folk expressing much disgust for their cellularized fellows.

"Generally, people using cell phones are loud and obnoxious — and they're not saying that much to each other," says Huggins. "It's a kind of thumb-sucking. Captain Kirk, who had the first cell phone on 'Star Trek,' at least spoke softly and didn't talk long — just to say 'beam me up.' "

Observes Chapman, "I had to sit waiting for a flight with this guy next to me and he called everyone on his list, one after one, just to kill time. And he was killing their time, too."

Fisher-Smith echoes the sentiment, "The great majority of calls I hear are empty of any real content — they continue through the airport as if the person on the other end has nothing else to do. Then there are the phone calls from family members or friends, confined to their car for an hour while commuting, who want to be entertained while they drive."

Hartzell adds, "It's an interesting phenomenon, people talking more to people on their cell phone than to their own children sitting next to them. Even though we're more in touch, we're having less contact."

Phone users stand by their hand-helds:

Cell phone users love their cell phones, consider the expense well worth it for the convenience and portability they provide and seem well aware — and not entirely comforted — about the potential health issues.

As for the privacy and personal space lauded by cell-free people, the users of cell phones, like Matt Howard of Ashland, say, "Just hit the button and turn it off if you don't want to be reached. I do, all the time. The calls go to my voicemail. I turn it back on and check them. And I turn it on vibrate instead of ring."

Greg Jaquette of Ashland says the cell easily pays for itself every month by increasing efficiency and availability to opportunities to connect with associates.

"I turn it off, though, when I hike — and also about 9 at night, because I don't want to be talking late. I flip it on before bed to check messages. The space issue has easy solutions."

So remote in the Applegate is Betty Shale that, without power and phone lines, she resorts to a cell phone as her only communication — and has to come into urban areas to be within range.

All had heard about RF (radio frequency) radiation fears, with Shale mentioning she was suspicious about a sore on her ear after long cell phone talk.

"I have to wonder why my ear gets to hot (when talking). It's weird to have waves going through your head."

Cell phone batteries use the same lithium-ion technology as computer laptop power supplies and can generate a lot of heat.

Jaquette uses "hands free" earplugs for long chats and hangs up for driving. "It's a possibility but I'm not too concerned about it."