In the TV ad, people with diabetes are waving their phones at their arms and ziiip getting a glucose reading. Evidently you used to have to stab yourself to get the same result but now you just have a doo-dad on your arm that your phone talks to. Probably it also knows whether to notify your doctor, or a donut shop.
At least one of the reasons I’m glad I’m not diabetic is that you could tape my phone right to the doo-dad and leave it overnight and in the morning it would just fart and fall off .
Yes, it is supposedly a smart phone.
But you can line it up with all the other smart phones out there and it would be like the picture of your kid’s first grade class, all spruced up in front of a banner that says MISS WHITTEN’S ALL-STARS. Psst: they’re not all stars. One or two shine bright and some of them eat boogers. I don’t ask much of my smart phone, and even so it does not live up to expectations.
I know there’s nothing a good smart phone cannot do. I’ve driven friends around and mentioned a mild hankering and within a minute someone in the back seat has located a spot to hanker in, and summoned directions, and added a musical sound track, and anticipated my next hankering. By the time we arrive at our destination, the phone has wrapped up my taxes, contributed to the correct candidate, and found a suspicious mole.
I don’t even think I get all my calls.
Here’s a thing my phone does. Sometimes someone sends me a text message that is clearly a response to a gang of people but I can’t see anything anyone else in the gang writes. I get snippets of conversation without the replies and have to guess what’s going on and with whom. All I have is the uncomfortable feeling people are talking about me. I have, on these occasions, handed my phone to a competent young person to troubleshoot, and they always poke away at it for a minute and then hand it back with the diagnosis: “Huh.”
Sometimes I no sooner pick up my phone than it informs me that it’s too full and nothing is going to work properly until it disgorges itself of something. I don’t know what. There are a few photos in there but no apps that didn’t come standard. My phone might be bulimic.
I count on my phone for so little that it is easy for me to leave it behind when I go anywhere. Even at home it’s not likely to be in the same room as me. I’m as prone to addiction as the next citizen and if I really could get useful or entertaining information out of my phone I’d probably be poking at it all day long. So I’m not inclined to upgrade. If I knew my phone could lock my front door while I was in another state, I’d be checking it every few seconds to see if my door was unlocked after all. That’s not healthy.
Life is more enjoyable when you not only don’t know everything, but you know you don’t know everything, and you don’t know how to find out. It’s okay. It’s probably the way it should be. Just me, Nature, and my phone back home on the counter, eating boogers.
PS: Happy Birthday Dave!
I'm one of the few who never bought a smart phone. I have a flip phone, and when I whip it out to answer a call, people's eyes bug out as if I had whipped out one of those antique cranked wall phones that you had to yell into in old movies. I just can't justify the expense, especially when you consider that I hate talking on the phone, so I do it as little as possible. I also hate texting, so I had my carrier disable that feature from my plan because I was getting tired of paying to get sales texts. I have a desktop computer, which I have somehow remained un-addicted to (probably because I don't do social media.)
I love this scene in Seinfeld's Comedians in Cars, which aptly describes my relationship to phones:
Jerry's friend: I tried calling you and you didn't answer, and I didn't get a voice-mail.
Jerry: Ooooh… I see what the problem is! You think I have the phone for your convenience…. *shakes his head "no" at the person*
We held out so long that the Verizon folks were nonplussed when we finally went in to buy our first ones. I do love text messages, because I don't like talking on the phone. Now all I have to do is remember to look at my phone every now and then.
I remember vividly the film we all watched in grade three. Johnny's puppy was missing so he had to use the *rotary dial* phone to call the agency in charge of finding lost puppies. And *here* boys and girls, is how one uses this new technology, the rotary dial telephone… This allowed us to instruct our parents in how to use the dial telephone when a week or two later it replaced the operator who recognized your voice and asked, "Who ya calling for Mattie?" and you'd say, "My mother-in-law," and she'd connect you. And along the line you'd hear the subtle tick tick as others on your party line picked up their phones and listened in. The "party line" was the social media of the era, even into the 80s in some parts of the USA and Canada. And now they want me to wrap my head around a smart phone? I have one, but my head's not smart enough to be wrapping that way. If they'd just put a rotary dial on it I'd be mighty pleased.
We definitely had a party line on our phone. Also, everyone hated our number because it had two zeroes in it. At Grandma's house, her phone rang five shorts.
When I was 12 or so, I spent much of my time in the basement (where my dad had hooked up an illegal extension) eavesdropping on our party line, Doris and Jo. I never knew which one was actually our party line, but they were two hillbilly women who spent hours gossiping. One was cheating on her husband with a guy she called Babe. They'd rendezvous at a beer depot outside a nearby amusement park. The two were a literary inspiration. I've written lots of imaginary conversations between those two over the years. I miss them.
I don't know the names of our party line because we DIDN'T have an extension and we were supposed to hang up as soon as we heard anybody. We didn't have normal fun in our family.
We had a neighbour whose kid used to listen in on the party line. Ok. So we didn't say anything private. But then she'd wander off and forget to hang up, so there you have us (and others on the line) shouting into the phone: "Tammy! Tammy!! Hang up, Tammy, TAMMY!!! TAAAAMMYYYYYY!!" Don't know why; it never worked until her mom came home and hung up.
Last July, I was coming home just after dark when I slammed into a deer. I was unhurt but my car was wrecked. A young man who saw the accident stopped to help. He asked if I had AAA or another roadside assistance service — I do not — whereupon he Googled on his phone, "What to do if you hit a deer." This instantly returned a numbered action list. I said, "Wow, that was smart!" and he grinned and replied, "It's a smart phone!"
This kind gentleman stayed with me for nearly an hour while the state police came to make a report, and the tow truck arrived to move the car, and my sister came to pick me up and give me a ride home. Thank you, random stranger. And Google.
I broadsided a deer once. Wrecked my car–deer bounded up and disappeared into the forest (where I'm sure it died). But that was decades before cell phones.
This was my 2nd deer. The first was in 1976, on my way to work, my first "real" job after college. Slammed into a huge buck. That time I was also fortunate as I wasn't hurt,and a nice man behind me stopped to help. I ended up going home again because I was upset. This didn't go over that well at work.
Like mimimanderly, I've kept my flip phone against enormous peer pressure (some of those peers wish they had done the same once they "upgraded"). Like Susan, I rely on the kindness of friends and strangers around me, who ALL have phones that'll do what might need doing.
I don't mind texting, but I also don't mind that many of my friends don't think my phone 'does' texting. Email is my go-to app, from my laptop, in my lap, created in my comfy recliner.
Me too. Have you noticed that even though there are dozens of ways to get hold of someone, we still have to remember what everyone's preferred method is? So-and-so never checks email, someone else doesn't answer texts…
My Kindle does most things my phone can do and it's bigger and easier to read. Generally, I keep technology at arm's length rather than embrace it. That's because it sometimes vibrates and scares me.
You got to lean into that.
I like your attitude toward your smart phone, Murr, and subscribe to a similar theory. The main difference is that, with my 13-year-old smart phone, I have never subscribed to a data service. I pay for straight-up phone service (texting turned "off") and use the smarts of my phone to carry Word, Excel, and Power Point files around with me for referencing.
Susan–My husband hit a deer on the "on" ramp of an Interstate at 11:30PM in June 2018. He was still trying to settle himself when a woman's voice asked him 1) if he was injured 2) his age and informed him that help was on the way. Fortunately, his smart phone was synced with his smart car and between them the system took over. Within a minute a sheriff's deputy was at his side.
It's a good thing that I did not hit the deer. My phone is too old to sync with the smart cars. However, Lincoln might take care of me, anyway. Who really knows how the system works? We do know that husband's car braked itself at about the same micro-second that he hit the brake. (The car was totaled by the insurance company.)
If that happened to me, I'd think I was dead and God was talking to me.
Last year I broke down and purchased a very fancy Google pixel and while the photos are stupendous (my hobby weakness) it has TON of stuff that I am too lazy to implement. It can do shopping lists, calendars, reminders, etc. I do use it to send text messages through the mic, but even that can have odd text!
I can't believe how good phone cameras are. Not MINE, though.
What a relief to hear that there are others out there with vintage ways of communicating with folks. I too still have a flip-phone, my original which is 15 years old,surprised that Verizon still services it. It has become a challenge to see how long it actually lasts. And like yours, it doesn't reside in my pocket. It often spends days in the car alone and unheard. It is tiresome to send a text but it can be done. Crazy as it may sound, I feel liberated having no extension at the end of my hand.
I've done better with voice text once someone showed me how to put in punctuation. I'm old. I have to have punctuation.
Voice text? I thought the point of texting is so you don't have to speak. I hate speaking on the phone. my old flip phone is resting in a bedroom drawer, waiting for resurrection day. All it needs is a sim card and possibly a new battery, if one is still available.
You dictate the text with your voice.
As a (still) working stiff here on the east coast, I'm thinking of having plastic surgery to create a kangaroo pouch so that I will never be far from my gol'darn phone. Its all because they let people under 35 join the workforce and do things like buy houses. Jeez, I was showing a property last month when a millennial buyer felt the need to do a little face-time with her Mom, who was somewhere across the country. Seems the poor dear had to have a parental consult (right then and there) over the color and quality of the kitchen cabinets. And as far as my work colleagues go, they're now opening lockboxes via bluetooth connection with their cell phone. I will admit, however, that I like Google maps for showing property out in the hinterlands. (sigh) It's just never gonna end.
Don't you have any back fat you can tuck your phone into?
I don't have a cell phone of any kind. Feel no compunction to be available to anyone at any time. Might be nice in case of an emergency, but the few times I've had an emergency, there was always someone handy to assist.
Odds of nobody having a phone in any given scene are vanishingly low.
We didn't get a cell phone until one winter when we saw a car ahead of us go off a steep road – otherwise there would have been no one to know what happened to those people. We looked at each other afterward and said "that could be us on this road sometime" and figured it was time. But I'm still using a flip phone because it's CHEAP, BABY! Anything internet related is done on our desktop and I like it like that.
Best wishes to the birthday boy!
He thanks you! Big 69!
A very Happy Birthday to Dave!
I have "modern" phone. I think it's Galaxy.I have not given people the number.The phone is for when something might happen and Home Base needs to know. The thing is, however smart this phone is…it aint smart if the ditzy owner forgets to take with her.
It's got a pretty good camera though. Oh, and I do NOT DO TXTING.
I love the texting. Not very zippy at it, but I keep it short.
Why take the car when you've got a horse and buggy? I love my smart phone. Use it all the time. Old farts are trainable and I'm proof.
I'm intermittently trainable.
Just like yesteryear when phones were attached to walls not people and no one knew every little thing everyone else was doing all the time. Yesteryear, when snail mail was waited for and eagerly anticipated to fine out news from those who had moved away, instead of a nearly every minute update on the slightest happening. If it weren't for computers and dvd players, I think I'd prefer yesteryear. Happy Birthday Dave.
There is much to admire about it all but keep those instincts sharp. I think we miss out when we are always keeping tabs on everything.
And yes, I forgot to say *Happy Belly Button Day to Dave*! Long may he continue to putter around in the garden, build walls and grow spectacular beards!
He started out with a birthday beer at 9:30am, and the theme continued.
I'm still holding out. We have the stupidest cell phone in the nation.
I held out on any cell phone but travel made me buy one. Sitting in an airport trying to get hold of the person who was going to pick me up (she was right outside) and finding no pay phone…and other airport events where I was pouring quarters into the pay phone to make arrangements once I'd missed my flight. Bleah.
I don’t know the question, but sex is definitely the answer. Click here and Check me out i am getting naked here 😉