Cell Phones Get Too-Busy Signal

There they were, recalled veteran restaurant owner Ed Moose, two dot-com kids standing at each side of the crowded bar breaking every rule of old-school social engagement.

They were talking on their cellular phones--to each other.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” he said. “Instead of walking 20 feet to ask his buddy if there’s any chicks in the joint, the guy calls on the phone. It’s rude. It ain’t right. I said right then: This is it.”

So Moose decided to ban cell phones at the North Beach eatery that bears his name, a move that is spreading across the city and elsewhere.

Here in the high-tech Bay Area, many people--including the mayor of San Francisco--are fed up with the constant intrusion of tinny rings, one-sided gabfests and “Look at me!” public showmanship.

Starting in May, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art will post signs banning cell phone use. Calling the devices a dangerous distraction, a county supervisor has demanded a review of the number of San Francisco bus and trolley drivers who ignore a ban of on-the-job cell phone use.

While movie theaters, stage venues and opera houses have long discouraged the use of cell phones during performances, public intolerance now has spread to some churches and synagogues.

In Menlo Park, near the cell phone-crazy Silicon Valley, one country club has nixed the devices on the golf course. Gyms have banned trainers from using their cell phone at work. And even at some 12-step meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous in Palo Alto, signs caution clients to turn off their trusty cells.

San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown also has joined the fray: The longtime cell phone critic will soon post a sign outside the public briefing room at City Hall warning cellular users to turn off their ringers before entering.

Across California, there are similar calls for a break in the relentless wireless revolution. One Pasadena school requires parents to silence their cell phones when delivering and picking up their children.

Jurors in Orange County Superior Court in Santa Ana are asked not to use cell phones in the waiting room because they annoy others. And a government office in Riverside County has created a cellular-free zone.

Said Susan Williams, a receptionist for the city of Temecula’s community development department: “We’d have 20 contractors yelling into their cells. We couldn’t hear own own phones ringing.”

The cellular phone fad has reached every corner of America, a nation with 92 million cell phone users--12 million of them in California. That’s one cell phone for every three state residents.

And every two seconds, somewhere in the country, a new cell phone user makes his or her first call, statistics show.

Borrowing a line from the gun lobby, the cellular industry insists that wireless phones don’t annoy people--people do.

“A rude person is a rude person, no matter what technology they use,” said Jeffrey Nelson, spokesman for the Cellular Telecommunications Industry Assn. “Our industry isn’t willing to play the role of Miss Manners here.”

Even Nelson has stories of obnoxious cellular use.

“Like the guy at the funeral who left his ringer on,” he said. “While people begged him to turn it off, he continued to take calls.”

Citing diners who use cell phones to place orders, a new San Francisco eatery called Dine also eighty-sixed the devices two months ago.

“At any bar today, 18 of 20 people are yakking on their cell phones,” said bar manager Carolann Lynch. “It’s annoying and the backlash is just beginning.”

At Moose’s, each table bears a card with a colorful rendering of the popular eatery’s mascot moose, along with the words “No Cellular Phones Please.” Those ignoring the rules are politely asked to step outside to join another group of social pariahs--the cigarette smokers.

That didn’t stop salesman Timothy Smith, who took a cell phone call while eating dinner at Moose’s on Wednesday night.

“I leave my cell phone on 24 hours a day, seven days a week,” he said later. “And I’ll answer it--whether I’m in the middle of a meal or in the middle of making love. It depends on how big the deal is.”

Smith--who uses a vibrating ringer in most public situations--is tired of being ostracized just for trying to do business. “If the lady at the next table has a problem with my phone, that’s just tough,” he said.

“Have you seen those bumper stickers from the National Rifle Assn. that say “Want my gun? Well, you can pry it from my cold dead fingers.’ The same goes for my cell phone.”

Cellular user Joe Smulan shared that outrage the night he used his phone at a Marin County restaurant and another diner ordered him to quiet down.

“I told him I have a right to use my cell phone,” said Smulan, a telecommunications manager. “I can’t predict when it will ring. But my cell phone is my office. And when it goes off, this is what you get.”

One reason for such misunderstandings, media experts say, is that cell phones redefine the definition of public and private space.

“They create a private sphere around you, even in public--but they’re intrusive to other people’s sense of space,” said Marita Surken, an associate professor at the Annenberg School for Communication at USC.

“People talk louder on cell phones. The ringers go off at odd times. They break the code of acceptable public behavior, and that causes stress.”

Mayor Brown agrees. He’s tired of being interrupted by the nervy ring of a cell phone call and has snapped at underlings and even citizens when their cell phones pierce public meetings. “They’re annoying as all hell,” he said.

And drivers beware: Your cell phones aren’t safe either. While a proposed statewide ban on use of the devices while driving failed in the Legislature three years ago, many politicians--including San Francisco Supervisor Amos Brown--are calling for renewed hearings.

After receiving a complaint that a city bus driver talked for 20 minutes on a cell phone while maneuvering through downtown traffic, Supervisor Gavin Newsom asked for statistics of municipal transportation drivers caught breaking the rules to make such calls.

“I don’t want to jump on the anti-cellular phone bandwagon, but I sit on the committee that approves settlements for accidents involving bus and trolley drivers,” he said. “Cell phones are part of the culture and there’s nothing we can do about it. But my God, not while you’re driving a bus.”

The folks at the Sharon Heights Golf and Country Club in Menlo Park say wireless phones have no place on the golf course either. “They slow down play, with phones ringing in people’s backswings and when they’re putting,” said course general manager Paul Koojoolian.

“A golf course is still the place where business deals are made. But on this course, you have to be playing with the person.”

Moose, a dapper, white-haired man who favors suspenders, knows his strict cell phone policy risks biting the hands he feeds. “I guess we run the risk of being considered a bunch of Luddites,” he said.

“Maybe the youngsters will say ‘That’s a restaurant for old people, the anti-techies who don’t have a clue.’ But I’m willing to take that chance.”