I have a cell phone. So does my husband—and my son and my daughter each have one. Admittedly, today's cell phones don't work all the time, every time. But except for my husband, who insists on seeing his phone as a convenience for himself, not as a way for me to reach him whenever I want or need to, the rest of us keep our phones turned on and on or near our persons pretty much all the time.
What's interesting is how this has changed our behavior. Sometimes it's good. When my daughter was younger, I was more willing to let her go to new places if she had her phone with her. Sometimes it's bad. When I pick my daughter up at a friend's house, I call her from the car and ask her to come out, rather than parking the car, getting out, knocking on the door, and introducing myself to her friend's parents. Sometimes it's a little weird. A few times my daughter's friends surprised me by walking in the front door of our house without knocking. I realized they had called her cell, and she had told them to come inside.
But good, bad, or indifferent, it's the wave of the future. My son doesn't even have a land line at his house. Some day Alexander Graham Bell's invention may go the way of the typewriter.