February 12, 2017


I have always thought of myself as a smart person. I had my doubts when I received Gary’s second hand smart phone, but I was able to learn to call, text, set alarms and erase. That’s all I wanted to do.  Now I have inherited Mindy’s Droid Turbo and I’m back to stupidity again. I thought that, having both Gary and Mindy around to do their marvelous magic on their devices, I didn’t need to go high tech, but I couldn’t pass up inheriting a phone with 16 Gigs of memory.


So Mindy is trying to teach me and I am trying her. She will say, “Just press on the button.” I look at the screen and see all kinds of icons and symbols, trying to look for something like a button, and her hand does it for me. Now if this is before ten a.m. I don’t dare ask her to go back and let me do it because she isn’t patient before that hour. In any case, most of those pictures and symbols don’t mean anything to me. It takes a long time to find what she wants me to on that screen.


I am going to sign up for a class. I am far outclassed by this powerful information device I can hold in my hand. And I want to take advantage of its resources. I have loaded a crossword puzzle so I can wait more patiently. I have the LDS scriptures. I can text and can even read my Face Book entries. I look forward to having my little Googler with me at all times, at least I hope so.


I have annoyed Gary and Mindy by forgetting to take my phone with me in the car, by letting it drain the battery and by having it upstairs when I am down. Honestly, I knew I could get back to the device (if I could find it) later, so I was too casual. Besides that, most of my clothes have no pockets. I have a couple of bags to hang phones around my neck, but find them difficult when I am doing anything but sitting at my computer. I now have a small purse with a zippered pocket that goes around the waist. I bought it when we were teaching in China to hide my Chinese “green card” and money.


Now I am trying to become welded to my phone so that I can keep up with the rest of the world. We don’t need to remember anything anymore. We can set alarms for appointments. We can find the meaning of a word in seconds (goodbye Webster’s and Roget), we can take the correct route to anywhere, we can write notes that we won’t lose (unless we lose the phone) and we can even read novels or see movies. What do we need to leave home for except groceries (unless delivery’s an option)?


I’m going to give something up as well, of course. I already don’t know people’s phone numbers. Now I won’t even have to know my own phone number, address or anything else. I won’t have to memorize anything or even write much down because my little keyboard anticipates what I want to say as I write. All I have to do is see the “low battery” message and recharge it. In fact, Gary has a tiny recharger that he carries in his pocket. All we need is a matching hookup and I can use it. So convenient. So up-to-date. So helpful. So connected. So debilitating? PMA