This is

Roman Mars.

Oop, uh, that's my phone.

Sorry.

Let me just dismiss that.

Producer James T. Green.

Sorry, honestly, it's just rare that I even keep my phone on vibrate or anything other than silent.

It's kind of rare that I get calls at all.

Yeah, because millennials are killing phone calls.

I mean, well, kind of, but I can still remember a time

Bridgewood phone calls. Like specifically when I was younger, probably around 15

years old. I remember family parties at my great-grandmother's house. The

smells were that of pound cake and baked macaroni and cheese. The sounds were

of gossip and complaints in bravado. But there's one noise that was constant and it came from my

uncle Scooter or rather from his phone. See family functions in my mother's

house back then. Everybody left their cell phones on even before they

blessed the food. See Scooter was the definition of a cool uncle. I remember

wearing a lot of white even though our meals were pretty messy.

He was a sunglasses indoors kind of guy. Sitting at the head of the table as he leaned back, the

sunlight through the screen door would shine on his link bracelet and his flip phone was always

clipped to his belt because Scooter got a lot of calls. It may have been rude to me but I

wanted to hear my phone I wanted it to ring. Scooter was always getting up from the table to go to the corner of the room and whisper on the phone or step out on the porch.

...