Dead cell phone while driving leads to a mild panic attack

The first time I drove around Naperville by myself, some 15 years ago, I was visiting and driving my mom's car.

My mom had what was called a "car phone." As someone truly directionally challenged, she considered the then-extravagance a necessity. Using it that day, driving around checking out future home possibilities, I considered it a kick.

"Hi!" I'd say when someone answered on the other end. "Guess where I am? In the CAR!" Now, of course, that sounds incredibly geeky. At the time it was maybe just a little geeky. But then, the car phone was an oddity, a bonus, something sort of quirky that my mom did.

Fast-forward to the present. The wonderful addition of our college student temporarily back in the nest had the "fringe benefit" of throwing our driving habits into disarray. He doesn't have a cell phone car charger because he doesn't have a car at school, so while he was home he borrowed mine.

That left me in my car without a charger. It was no big deal until one evening when my cell phone started the dreaded beeping that means: "Time is running out. In just a few minutes, your link to the outside world will end. Get home quick or suffer the consequences."

What consequences? I spent more than half of my driving years driving all over the country without any sort of communication available fancier than emergency flashers. Besides, on this particular evening, I was just driving along Route 59, catching up on some errands.

But one of my kids was expected home and I'd asked him to call. If my cell phone died, he wouldn't be able to reach me. Oh, and a couple of my errands would be a lot easier and faster if I could call ahead. Reaching for my cell, I realized I probably couldn't complete either of those calls.

Should I conserve what little power I had left? Or make a call that would help expedite my errands and get me home sooner? I tried making a call. The phone died. My link expired. Complete and utter nothingness from the phone.

This is silly, I said. (With no one available to talk to on the cell phone, I was talking to myself.)

I think I use my phone in the car less than most people. But suddenly, I had several questions I wanted answered immediately. Answers I could have resolved simply with a couple of phone calls. Now it was no longer an option.

You know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder. Suddenly, I adored my cell phone. I got grouchier by the minute. Everything I needed or wanted required a phone call. I wasn't hyperventilating, but I was agitated.

This is ridiculous, I told my new best friend. Beyond silly. Embarrassing, really. But suddenly, none of my errands seemed as urgent. I just wanted to get home and charge my cell. What if someone was trying to get a hold of me?

Getting home, I saw that someone had moved the wall charger. A cell conspiracy? Luckily, I remembered I'd packed one in my carry-on bag during a recent trip, and -- voila! -- it was still there. Score one for leaving some bags half-unpacked.

Plugging in, I sighed and the stress melted away. Connected once again. But still feeling a little ridiculous.