I admit it. I broke my smart phone, and it wasn’t exactly an accident.
Don’t worry, I canceled my insurance policy on it without filing a claim - even though I didn’t see anything in the fine print about my coverage being no good if my phone broke as the result of total frustration and exasperation with the device. To file a claim would have been dishonest, and to replace my smart phone might have led to more of the same.
My only regret? That I didn’t take it to a gun range and shut off the device properly. I suppose I could still do that but the satisfaction might not be quite the same.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a violent person and don’t go around destroying things. But the temptation has been exceedingly strong in two areas of my life: Smart phones and graduated bifocals.
When I was truck driving and struggled to see everything clearly with new glasses which only let me focus on one small area at a time, I so wanted to just toss them out the window and under the dual wheels behind me. After all, I could see better without them and could wear reading glasses for the up-close stuff. I didn’t need them to pass my driving tests, so why not? Well, it would have been littering and I didn’t. I still have them in a dresser drawer to this day.
After a few years of struggling with those glasses and a second pair from the same doctor, I went to another doctor and learned the prescription was too strong. Subsequent glasses have worked a bit better, though I still often go without them.
I never did find a good solution for my issues with smart phones. You see, the smart phones I’ve used just didn’t work well for phone calls. They could do a host of other things but were a pain when it came to making and receiving calls. And, it seems, they often were doing things in the background that I didn’t ask them to do.
I cannot count the number of times I’ve dropped my phone into my shirt pocket only to hear it dialing someone. When I tried to stop it, I couldn’t. The screen was black or some other app opened and the call continued.
Then there was the matter of all the notification noises. Yes, I shut them off, but it didn’t take because my phone would still tell me whenever anyone sent emails or messages or posted something new on Facebook. It seemed, too, that every application wanted access to all my contacts and private data.
I also found that every time I got a break from work and tried to do something else, I’d spend that time going through messages and updates on my phone and be frustrated because my phone, smart as it was, just couldn’t do what my desktop computer can do.
“What a waste!” I figured. “I spend so much time at a computer anyway; why do I need to carry a mini-computer in my shirt pocket?”
I kept telling Mrs. Griz I wanted to go back to my old flip phone, but she thought it was foolish of me not to have a “modern” cell phone and didn’t like the “uncool” look of my old flip phone with mini-antenna. She even hid away my old phone for a time in her cedar chest, but I found it and lusted for the opportunity to carry it again and do away with the modern technology which weighted down my shirt pocket - something else about which she occasionally teased and complained.
The straw that broke my back and sent my smart phone to its demise came about when I was working under the dash of my pickup truck and my phone rang. I managed to retrieve my phone from my pocket, but no one was there. The nit began doing its thing all by itself and I couldn’t stop it - well, I did stop it when I tossed it out of my truck and it landed on the driveway. The touchscreen cracked and the phone did a meltdown.
Mrs. Griz wasn’t too happy with me; but with a trip to a cell phone store and activation of a new full-size SIM card, I was using my old fl ip phone again and loving it. I could use my old speed dial numbers and even call Mrs. Griz without putting on my glasses and praying that my phone would actually call the number I selected. It wouldn’t be good if I told someone else what I intended to tell my wife - that happened once and it was a bit embarrassing to tell “another woman” that call was intended for Mrs. Griz and she shouldn’t have answered it.
And all the noise and chatter? It was gone! I had some peace and quiet. And when I needed to make a call, I had a real phone again and could hear the people talking to me instead of hearing bits and pieces and trying to fill in the rest.
Yes, Mrs. Griz wasn’t too happy with my style. My old phone looked like a relic from a past age - really only about seven years ago - so I went online and ordered a brand new and “cool” flip phone for $45. It might actually be an older model than my old favorite, but it’s sleek and thin and stylish. All I had to do is put in my SIM card and turn it on and it worked great. OK, I admit I did do some other programming to enable a few features, but I wouldn’t have had to do that.
Now Mrs. Griz is happy - at least not mad at me - and I’m happy! My life is a bit less complicated and my exasperation with smart-phones has subsided.
OK, I did have thoughts of taking my smart phone to the gun range back in Kansas the next time I go and giving it both barrels just to be sure it doesn’t somehow come back to life and terrorize my life again, but I don’t suppose that will be necessary anymore. Life is better now!
Randy Moll is the managing editor of the Westside Eagle Observer. He can still be reached by email at [email protected].
Opinion, Pages 4 on 07/10/2013