Ask not who pays Ma Bell's tolls, they're not paid by me

Sweet freedom. It is not often in these intrusive times of increased government regulation aimed at saving our cooling planet from global warming (excuse me, global climate change), internet ads so targeted my browser recommends a tie to match the shirt I happen to be wearing while surfing the web and corporations so intertwined that my purchase of a Kosher dinner ends up feeding the coffers of Mercedes Benz (talk about irony) that one gets to stick it to The Man. Face it, The Man got to be The Man because he wins a lot more often than some other schmo. David did beat Goliath but, depending on your views regarding a supreme being, he either made a very lucky throw or, considering the size of his all powerful ally in the heavens, he wasn't the underdog in the fight.

It must be that fact most of us never get to experience being The Man that we take such pride in seeing the big guys fail. We also take every opportunity to inflict what amount to pin pricks of pain on corporate giants whenever possible. If you've ever had a cashier at your local WalMart give you too much back in change on your purchase of a five gallon Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey and said "screw 'em, they can afford it" as you pocketed your booty in the booty pocket of your soon to be tighter jeans you know exactly what I mean. Unfortunately, it is the cashier who, upon closing out her till for the evening who will be repaying the shortage in the form of a payroll deduction or several years of indentured servitude added to the contract she signed when she sold her soul to the Arkansas based denizens of hell by agreeing to work there. Either way, the Man doesn't lose.

It is, therefore, with glee and a defiant middle finger poised on the Domino's redial button that I tell you all the Bald Man household has cut the tether to The phone company. Granted, The phone company is not quite the same as it was a few decades ago when Mama Bell was broken up in to more sister companies than a Fundamentalist LDS Church leader has sister wives. But it still feels good. There is a growing community of callers who are choosing to forgo traditional telephony when reaching out to touch others. That is, of course, when they are not fending off telemarketers interrupting a dinner full of pizza and ice cream. High minute cell phone plans and the ability to twitter away at will for pennies and the ability to route a call via your broadband cable modem are swaying the pendulum to the alternative side of the communications spectrum.

In reality, we've only switched from paying one giant corporate entity to paying another giant corporate entity but there remains a liberating feeling in telling one their services are no longer required. I can't help but wonder if that feeling was anything akin to what The Man The Donald feels saying "Your fired" to a narcissistic MBA whose business acumen has proven to be as dazzling as an Amish funeral shawl. Stupid is the new black in business after all.

It is doubtful Qwest (the sister wife phone company for our region) will go the way of a candle maker in a post Edison world but, as more of us realize there are alternatives, The Man will notice. I will take note every time I pick up the phone to reach out and bother someone that there is no longer a monthly payment going to a faceless, uncaring corporate coffer.

There will still be a yearly tax paid on the IP routing equipment we use now to make calls. When it comes to our government, The Man plays with a stacked deck and never loses. But we can all drink some tea and hope.

S2