I am choosing to go “old school” for a few months until my husband graduates and learns if we will be moving for his new job. This choice was made Thursday when my Android self-destructed beyond repair. Thankfully a kind friend gave me his old cell phone, so I’m not completely without. However, I am understanding in a new way the meaning of the saying, “You never know what you have until it’s gone.”
Let me back up and clarify, it didn’t exactly self-destruct. It is, after all, over two-and-a-half years old. I admit it has been dropped on many occasions. The screen has been cracked for over a year. Gizmo has retrieved it more times than I can remember and the slobber-factor probably wasn’t part of the original design considerations. Last summer the battery exploded. Yet even with all that wear and tear, it has been working perfectly. Until Thursday. (Maybe I should be writing a testimonial for the indestructibility of this model?)
Prior to it’s demise, I really thought my Android was just a phone. No big deal. Oh, it was really nice to be able to read an e-book, play a game, watch YouTube, Tweet, or take meeting notes on it. But it’s really just a glorified phone. I can give it up at anytime.
Friday was my first day without it. I am shocked how many times I reached for it, and then realized my current replacement didn’t have that capability. When Gizmo did something really cute, I instinctively thought it would be great for his Facebook page only to realize I don’t have the ability to take and edit a picture, and then post it directly on his timeline. Or when I woke during the night and reached for my Android to turn on the flashlight so I wouldn’t wake hubby. Or when I wanted to drown out the noise around me to think and write, but then remembered this phone doesn’t play music. Let’s not even discuss my need for Sudoku.
Saturday, was even harder. My son’s first words when he saw me were, “What did you think about (insert thing he was excited about) …?” My blank expression negated the need for words. He looked equally confused. “Mom, I posted pictures on Facebook.” Then I told him I no longer had Facebook on my phone, and would have to log on the computer to see what he was talking about. He just shook his head in disbelief. Later we went out to eat, and while waiting for our meals everyone pulled out their smartphones to check on something we had been discussing. Everyone except me. I felt so alone.
Now before you start feeling sorry for me, my point here isn’t to bemoan my little first world problem. I will get another smartphone soon enough, and I do realized how blessed I am to live with such technology.
The real surprise is how quickly and insidiously life’s luxuries become so ingrained in our daily routines that we consider them to be necessities. I am usually the one encouraging a simple and frugal life, and yet I realize that I became addicted to this object. Granted it’s a tool for business and communication. As a writer, most of my time is spent either reading, researching, making notes, listening to podcasts, or actually writing. All of these tasks are more efficient with a smartphone. But writers have been writing for centuries before we even had electricity, let alone computers. For the next few months, I will still be able to work, manage my home, and communicate with friends and family. Perhaps just not as smartly.
Meanwhile, sweet little black Samsung Droid Charge, know that you were appreciated and will be missed. …sniff… sigh…