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Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Smarty Pants Phones----as I see them

My life with a modern contraption


I have a cellulite phone. Now, now, I was told it was a CELL phone by someone who thought I was an idiot. Generally, I think it is an okay tool, but it can be intrusive to the point of annoying. There are quiet moments when the last thing I want to hear is the silly, computerized rock song called a ring tone on the cellulite gizmo .

No sooner does the cellular device become familiar, then an eye phone shows up, or is it a “smarty pants” phone, not sure. I first noticed these smarty phones when I saw people walking down the street staring at this hand-held contraption, sometimes they talked incoherently to themselves or sometimes they laughed as if just out of the nut house. Always, they paid no attention to what was going on in the outside world.

Everywhere it is the same, make a small statement of doubt and out comes the smarty phone and in comes data from God knows what source. It is so bad that it is almost impossible to have a conversation without triggering a casual flip-out of the screened device and in turn a snooty diatribe on the subject.

To top if off, if a slight mention should be made that this space age, beam-me-up-Scotty piece of technical fluff is of questionable value, one is looked at with new age disdain, with an “L” held over the accuser’s forehead. This used to imply LOSER but now it also means LUDDITE.

So Dave from New York shows up at our house and as is commonly the case, he informs me that I am not of the modern age and frankly, don’t seem to care, because of my ridicule of his character and his “smarty pants” phone.  He insists he is hip because he just retired from teaching and he is “one” with youth and the rapidly changing world.

As we returned from Wausau, my charming wife insisted we seek out some sweet potato fries, the ones she knew were being promoted by one of the national burger shops. There was a brief hemming and hawing until Dave in a smug tone informs us exactly where to find these orange fries because he has it locked into his GPS system on his silly phone. In the process of announcing his find, he turns in my direction with a grin that portrays his not-so-subtle glee and at the same time implies I am an idiot. “Hey Wright, have you had a chance to get your horses out of the livery, yet?”

With that observation floated, the discussion turned to his shinny phone-like device. Now, I knew that it can be used for what is called texting, another useless service that consumes too much good work time, and it can also be used for taking photographs or movies of unsuspecting people like royalty and politicians---all in compromised situations. I did not know it could be used to identify a song by Kenny Chesney and really was not aware it could identify the flight number, aircraft and pilot from a contrail passing over head.

“You think you are so smart playing your old fiddle but look at this.” and he demonstrates how the smarty phone can be used as a flute. “You have to blow in it, then finger the holes on the screen.” What? “Listen dude, I can hold this thing up to the night sky and it will identify the constellations because I got this great App.”

At this point I am looking at him with full intention of doing bodily harm because it has been made clear I no longer need to know anything. Just buy a few apps. “I am going fishing.” I stated. “There is no need for that mind-controlling piece of technology, that mass hypnotism.”

“Hey let me show you this?” He then hands over the little TV and on it are a bunch of swimming fish, gold fish. He says, “Touch the screen.” When I do the fish move and there is a sound of water splashing. I know where he is going, and running through my mind is the idea of getting my bow and arrow and doing a little bow fishing right through the touch screen.

He is by now full of himself and grinning like he had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. “It can also make white noise for you to sleep and can you believe this? It can also be used to fly these small remote controlled airplanes.” About then, my mind is starting to fry and it occurs to me that maybe this contraption could also fly drones, launch missiles, take away my private life and who knows what else.

On the way home, it occurred to me having a horse in the livery might be a good idea.




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