Several years ago when a cell phone was the size of a toaster oven, I announced to a friend at coffee that I was not going down that road. I held out for a bit, but with teenagers it became evident very soon that I was cutting off my nose to spite my face. If I had a cell phone, I could be out and about and still be available to them. No more answering machine to run home to, no more pagers. So I signed up.
I ventured cautiously along the road to Smartphones, holding on to my beloved flip phone until the ridicule was no longer bearable. Off first to look at an iphone, in its nascent form (circa 2007) with Siri a gleam in Steve Jobs’ eye. But the cult of the Apple did not appeal to me, (sorry, all) so I ventured into enemy territory and became a ‘Droid girl. I have not regretted my decision, and am now on my third Android-based Smartphone. It is reliable and sturdy. Like me.
Soon there were hundreds of photos taken, and so many emails sent. I became proficient at downloading apps. Writing Yelp reviews at the beach. Bidding on ebay items while sitting at the doctor’s office. As for everyone, the Smartphone has replaced many devices in my everyday life: camera, calculator, alarm clock, flashlight, maps, radio, wristwatch, phone book, land line, grocery list, credit cards, file cabinet, even cookbooks. The recipe folder on my home screen is full.
The only thing I would not do was text. I don’t know why, but it just did not appeal to me. I look back now and I think my major objection was that all the abbreviations reeked of teenage girl, something I had been very good at but did not wish to repeat. Lol, brb, omg, emoticons, no capital letters – no apostrophes – it just wasn’t me. It reminded me of writing 2good2Btrue on my notebook in sixth grade. So I did not text. I emailed, I dialed, I scrolled, but I would not text.
Then something happened to change my tune. My father died, twenty-five hundred miles away. Of course there were countless phone calls, but since I was the last holdout in my entire family to text, something was missing. All of a sudden, I understood. I went to Verizon online and enabled texting. I texted my mother. My children. I texted my brothers. My sisters-in-law. My nephews. Old friends. Cousins. The shorthand was soon helping us grieve in a very different, more immediate way. It was much easier to convey feelings in a few words, without dissolving into tears.
Soon it became a natural part of my everyday life. Forehead slap – what was I thinking? Running late for our 12pm lunch. See you soon. TEXT! Please pick up some cheese at the store. TEXT! Will you let out the dog? TEXT! And my mother said the best thing a mother could say to a daughter in a relationship that can be rather volatile. “Texting was made for us. You can’t hang up on me, and you can’t yell.” Love you, Mom. TEXT!
This morning I got a notification that my Cloud backup had reached its maximum capacity and that I have to offload or get more storage space. I wondered what was eating up so much space on my phone. Then I looked. Let’s just say I have made up for lost time:
4076 texts in six months.
Omg