这个世界上有多少千奇百怪的人，就有多少千奇百怪的事。有些事对有些人来说平常得仿佛一日三餐，对另一些人来说却仿佛徒步走蜀道，难似上青天。打电话就是一个典型案例。一般人会想：不就是拿起听筒，报上姓名，嘘寒问暖，叙叙别情，有事聊正事，无事唠家常吗？这有什么难的？但对于有“电话恐惧症”的人来说，事实可远非这么简单。读了下文你就会知道：人生烦恼事，数也数不完；一部小电话，“吓破”英雄胆。
My alluring1) wife was a Junior Leaguer2), once upon a time, and got a big laugh out of a lecture she was obliged to attend on making “cold calls3)”. It was the first time either of us had ever heard the term, and she was especially amused at the idea of being coached about so simple a task as picking up the phone and calling a stranger.
我那漂亮迷人的太太曾经是青年联盟成员，有一次，她不得不去参加一个有关如何打“冷电话”的讲座，每当想起这事她都觉得特别好笑。我们俩都是第一次听到“冷电话”这种叫法，而令她觉得尤其好笑的是，给陌生人打电话是多简单的事儿啊，居然会有人想到为此而接受培训。
I admit that I would not especially wish to be taught, as an adult, how to make cold calls; but an antipathy4) to calling strangers—and an abiding dislike of the telephone—is neither laughable nor alien to me. If either of us has to make a call on behalf of the household—whether, in phone company parlance5), to a business or residence—I am happy to concede the privilege. My long-suffering spouse is alternately amused and annoyed by this reticence6), and still cannot quite believe that a man of my age, given an opportunity to do his duty, would employ the Bartleby the Scrivener7) defense: “I would prefer not to.”
我承认，作为一个成年人，我也不太乐意让别人教我怎样给陌生人打电话，但那种对给陌生人打电话的厌恶感——那种对打电话持久不变的反感——对我来说既不可笑也不陌生。如果我们夫妻二人必须有一个要代表整个家庭打电话的话——不管是打给企业还是居民(电话公司用语)——我都很乐意让出自己的权利。对我这种畏畏缩缩的行为，我那对此忍受已久的太太时而觉得好笑，时而感到恼火。她至今仍无法相信，一个像我这把岁数的大男人，在需要履行自己职责的时候，竟然总是采取抄写员巴特比式的抵抗态度：“我不乐意。”
The Freudian in me searches for an explanation for this behavior, and the only experience I can suggest is the childhood trauma8)—common to nearly everyone, I would guess—of being put on the phone when some adult relation had called long-distance. The ensuing dialogue—“Hello, how are you?” “We’re fine, thanks. How’s school?” “Pretty good, thank you. I hope you and Aunt Charlotte can visit soon.” “So do we.”—was, for me, as awkward and painful as it was meaningless. Nor has adulthood smoothed out the mortification9): I still freeze when the telephone’s hideous bell begins to clang, and thank whatever gods may be for answering machines and caller ID.
我骨子里那种弗洛伊德式的个性促使我对这种行为刨根问底，而我能想起的唯一经历就是童年的创伤——我想几乎每个人都曾有过类似的经历——那就是不得不去接某个成年亲戚的长途来电：“喂，你们好吗？”“我们很好，谢谢。你上学怎么样？”“我很好，谢谢。我希望你和夏洛特阿姨能早点来看我们。”“我们也希望如此。”这种对话对我来说既尴尬又痛苦，因为毫无意义。现在，尽管我早已成年，那种窘迫感却依然无法消除。每当恐怖的电话铃声丁零丁零地响起，我依然会不寒而栗。谢天谢地，现在总算有了自动应答机和来电显示。
I suppose there is a more charitable explanation. As a person of some conceit I prefer the monologue to the dialogue; and as a journalist I prefer to communicate through the written word. Indeed, if the words and phrases are in printed, rather than oral, form, I am as voluble10) as any cell phone user on the train: The language comes quickly; jokes abound; it’s a veritable Niagara of puns, tart11) phrases, and snappy repartee12). Put a receiver to my ear, however, and the mind slows down, the thoughts evaporate13), and one labored14) sentence yields sluggishly15) to the next.
除此之外，我想应该还有一个更为仁慈的解释。作为一个多少有点自负的人，我更喜欢个人独白，而非二人对话；作为新闻记者，我更喜欢通过书面文字来和他人沟通。的确，如果使用书面语而不是口头形式来交流，我会像火车上任何一位手机使用者一样滔滔不绝：戏谑调侃，出口成章；巧舌如簧、言辞犀利、妙语连珠，珠玑之语犹如尼亚加拉大瀑布一般连绵不绝。然而，一旦将听筒放到耳边，我的大脑就会立刻变得迟钝起来，思想瞬间蒸发，说话磕磕巴巴，半天憋不出一个句子来。
Indeed, one of the nice things about email—or Facebook, for that matter—is that they nicely combine the immediacy of telephone contact without the voice-activated trauma. You have time to ponder your response, and refine the way you phrase it, or opt out16) altogether. On the telephone I feel as if I am testifying in court and a stenographer17) is taking down every misbegotten18) syllable. On email, or Facebook, or Twitter, I’m the Wizard of Oz19): The “voice” and the pyrotechnics20) are basically theater.
说实话，在这方面，电子邮件——或者Facebook——的妙处之一就在于：它们巧妙地整合了电话联系的即时性，又没有声音激起的那种痛苦。你有时间去思考自己的回复，去斟酌自己的措词，或者干脆完全不予理睬。打电话时，我总是觉得自己好像是在法庭上作证一样，所说的每一句话，甚至每一个口误，都会被速记员记录下来。而在电子邮件、Facebook或Twitter上，我就是《绿野仙踪》中奥兹国的巫师，炫酷的“声音”、缤纷的辞藻，极具舞台效应。
Of course, not everyone approaches the subject from this point of view, or gives much thought to practices that are second nature21) for most people. Yet I am intrigued to note that the young seem also to have an aversion22) to the telephone (no doubt for reasons different from mine) but exchange a colossal23) number of text messages every month. Most of these messages have only a passing resemblance to language—OMG! :( LOL! u rock ☺ etc.—but might also represent the same disinclination to deploy the voice when a better, more satisfying, substitute exists.
当然，并非每个人都会从这一视角来审视这一问题，或对多数人都习以为常的行为有太多的关注。不过，使我感兴趣的是，我注意到年轻人对电话似乎也有一种反感(当然反感的原因肯定和我有所不同)，但他们每个月都要互发大量的短信。虽然大多数短信都对语言进行了改头换面，如“OMG!”“:(”“LOL!”“u rock”“☺”等等，但或许也说明：如果存在更好、更称心的替代品，他们同样不喜欢使用声音来沟通。
This is especially evident to me when I am driving home from work at night. There is a particular intersection in Washington, off Farragut Square, where I must always stop for the light, and dozens of pedestrians cross the street or move along the sidewalk beside a subway station. A substantial percentage of them are holding cell phones to their ears, and during the warmer months I can eavesdrop24) on their conversation: “Hey! How ya doing?” is frequently heard, along with “So what’s going on?” and “Hi! It’s me.” Which, roughly translated, tells me that my fellow urbanites25) don’t really use their cell phones for any practical purpose except making random contact.
这一点，在我夜晚下班驱车回家时，显得尤为明显。在华盛顿的法拉格特广场附近，有一个十字路口，我常常要在这里停下等红灯，这时总能看到成群的行人穿过街道，或者沿着地铁站旁边的人行道前行。在这些人中，不少人都手持手机放在耳边，在天气暖和的日子里，我还能“偷”听到他们的对话。最常听到的是“嗨！你好吗？”，还有“最近怎么样？”以及“你好！是我。”这些对话似乎在向我传达一个信息：除了偶尔联系联系，我的都市同胞们并没有把手机用于什么实际的用途。
Which, to someone of my nature, is incomprehensible. When I was in college there were two forms of communication available to the average citizen: the telephone and what we now call snail mail26). In my fourth-year dormitory, there was exactly one telephone, a pay phone located on the wall of a floor above mine; and in those halcyon27) days, a long-distance call between Washington and Philadelphia, or vice versa, not only was reserved for occasions such as a death in the family, but also required an inconveniently large supply of coins.
这一点，对于一个像我这样的人来说，是难以理解的。在我上大学的那个时候，对普通市民来说，有两种沟通方式可供选择：电话，以及我们现在所谓的蜗牛信件。在我大四的宿舍楼里，仅有一部电话机，那是一部安装在墙上的付费电话，就在我所在楼层的楼上。在那个和平宁静的年代，从华盛顿到费城或从费城到华盛顿的长途电话，一般都是在发生重大变故时才会拨打，比如家庭成员去世，而且还需要耗费大量的硬币，非常不便。
I was happy to write a cheerful letter to my parents every two weeks or so, for which in exchange they would dispatch a welcome check. But I can say with perfect confidence that I never, not once, wasted an infinite number of nickels on a telephone call.
那时，我大概每两周会给父母写一封热情洋溢的信，而他们，作为回复，也会给我寄来一张颇受欢迎的支票。但我可以绝对肯定地说，我从来都没有把大把大把的硬币浪费在打电话上，一次也没有。
1. alluring [əˈlʊərɪŋ, əˈljʊərɪŋ] adj. 迷人的，吸引人的
2. Junior Leaguer：青年联盟成员，青年联盟的全称为国际青年联盟协会(The Association of Junior Leagues International)，创建于1901年，是一个非营利性的妇女教育和慈善组织，其宗旨是推广志愿服务，发展妇女潜能，通过培训成员的行动力和领导力来改善社区生活。
3. cold call：(向潜在顾客打的)冷不防电话
4. antipathy [ænˈtɪpəθɪ] n. 憎恶，反感
5. parlance [ˈpɑː(r)ləns] n. 说法；用语
6. reticence [ˈretɪs(ə)ns] n. 勉强，不愿
7. Bartleby the Scrivener：抄写员巴特比，美国作家赫尔曼·梅尔维尔(Herman Melville)的小说《抄写员巴特比：一个华尔街的故事》(Bartleby, the Scrivener: A Story of Wall Street)中的主人公，他是一位纽约律师的小文书，因拒绝工作而被捕入狱。
8. trauma [ˈtrɔːmə] n. [医]外伤，损伤
9. mortification [ˌmɔː(r)tɪfɪˈkeɪʃ(ə)n] n. 羞愧感，窘迫感
10. voluble [ˈvɒljʊb(ə)l] adj. 健谈的，有口才的，口若悬河的
11. tart [tɑː(r)t] adj. 辛辣的，尖酸的，刻薄的
12. repartee [ˌrepɑː(r)ˈtiː] n. 机敏的回答，妙语；巧辩，机智的反驳
13. evaporate [ɪˈvæpəreɪt] vi. 消失
14. labored [ˈleɪbə(r)d] adj. 不流畅的，不自然的
15. sluggishly [ˈslʌɡɪʃlɪ] adv. 行动迟缓地
16. opt out：决定不参加；决定退出
17. stenographer [stəˈnɒɡrəfə(r)] n. 速记员
18. misbegotten [ˌmɪsbɪˈɡɒt(ə)n] adj. 设想(或筹划)得很不周密的；设计得很拙劣的
19. Wizard of Oz：奥兹国的巫师，是美国作家弗兰克·鲍姆(Frank Baum)的童话故事集《绿野仙踪》(The Wonderful Wizard of Oz)中的人物。《绿野仙踪》在1902年被改编成舞台剧，1939年被拍成电影。
20. pyrotechnics [ˌpaɪrəʊˈteknɪks] n.(辩才、演奏技巧等的)出色表现，炫示；(用词等的)炫耀
21. second nature：第二天性，习性
22. aversion [əˈvɜː(r)ʃ(ə)n] n. 反感，厌恶，嫌恶
23. colossal [kəˈlɒs(ə)l] adj. 巨大的，庞大的
24. eavesdrop [ˈiːvzˌdrɒp] vi. 偷听
25. urbanite [ˈɜː(r)bənaɪt] n. 都市人
26. snail mail：蜗牛信件，蜗牛邮递系统(指与电子邮件相对而言的普通邮政服务)
27. halcyon [ˈhælsɪən] adj. 平静的，安静的；和平的