小学二年生のとき、隣に住んでいたダッグという友だちが、親からバースデープレゼントに「ウォーキートーキー」をもらった。つまり「携帯用無線電話器」だ。警察官や兵隊が使用するものと形はそっくり。ただし子供用に安っぽくできていて、通じる範囲はせいぜい百五十メーター。①それでも近所で遊ぶには十分だった。
ダッグが裏庭の塀の裏へ回り、ぼくは家の前の道を渡って木立に駆け込む。そしてだれにも見られなかったことを確認した上で、ボタンを押して交信開始——「ポプラの木まできた。そっちはどこ？どうぞ」。
方々走りながら見えない相手と会話できるというのは、当時のぼくらにとって衝撃的だった。けれど、互いの現在地を確認したあと何を話すのか、中身の面では物足りなさ（注1）をいつも感じた。からかい合ったり、小学生なりの世間話をしたり、戦争ごっこにもあの無線をずいぶん使ったが、結局、互いの顔を見ながらしゃベったほうが楽しく、「コリンズおばさんの庭のスズカケの木で落ち合おう（注2）。どうぞ」と合流地点を決めて、スイッチをオフに。
今、東京の街を歩いていると、携帯電話の会話の断片があちこちから聞こえてくる。仕事の段取りや、部下を叱る上司、恋人をふっているような話などなど。だが、むかしダッグと二人で散々（注3）やった現在地確認の類いが、圧倒的に多い。車内で、②「いま電車」という言葉を何度耳にしたことか。
こっちは聞くつもりなんか毛頭ない（注4）のに、盗み聞きを強いられるというのが、気に障る（注5）主原因だろう。おまけに内容も、ほとんどが退屈なしろもので、少々興味をそそられるはずの別れ話さえ、ケータイで済まされてしまっていると、かなり殺風景（注6）だ。
ぼくはケータイを持たない。一種の食わず嫌いだが、在りし日のウォーキートーキーでだいたい、交信の限界が分かったのか。それに外を歩いているとき、電話に出たいとは思わない。歩きながら考えたいと思う。しかも、他人のケータイの会話に妨害されずに。
AI translation, cross-checked between two models.
When I was in the second grade of elementary school, my friend Daggu, who lived next door, received a “walkie-talkie” from his parents as a birthday present. In other words, it was a “portable radio telephone.” It looked just like the ones used by police officers and soldiers. However, since it was made cheaply for children, its range was at most about 150 meters. ① Even so, that was plenty for playing around the neighborhood.
Daggu went around behind the backyard fence, while I crossed the road in front of the house and ran into a grove of trees. Then, after making sure no one had seen me, I pressed the button and began transmitting—“I’ve reached the poplar tree. Where are you? Over.”
At the time, being able to run around while talking to someone we could not see was astonishing to us. But once we had confirmed each other’s locations, we always felt there was something lacking in terms of what to talk about next.（注1） We teased each other, made the sort of small talk elementary school kids do, and used the radio a lot for playing war games, but in the end it was more fun to talk face-to-face, so we would say, “Let’s meet at the sycamore tree in Mrs. Collins’s garden.（注2） Over,” decide on a meeting point, and switch the radios off.
Nowadays, when I walk through the streets of Tokyo, fragments of mobile-phone conversations reach my ears from all directions. There are conversations about work arrangements, bosses scolding subordinates, people who seem to be breaking up with their partners, and so on. But by far the most common are the same sort of location checks that Daggu and I used to do endlessly long ago.（注3） On trains, I have lost count of how many times I have heard the phrase ② “I’m on the train now.”
The main reason it bothers me is probably that, although I have absolutely no intention of listening, I am forced to eavesdrop.（注4）（注5） On top of that, most of what is said is boring, and even a breakup, which ought to arouse at least a little curiosity, feels quite bleak when it is simply handled over a mobile phone.（注6）
I do not own a mobile phone. It may be a kind of dislike without having tried it, but perhaps my old walkie-talkie already taught me, more or less, the limits of remote communication. Besides, when I am out walking, I do not want to answer the phone. I want to think while I walk. And I want to do so without being disturbed by other people’s mobile-phone conversations.
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