Not So Fast Forward
By Pressed for Time on January 13, 2013
By all means, let me cut to the chase. This is my new phone case:
It would suggest a target demographic of which I am unquestionably not a part of now and probably have not been not for roughly the past 40 years. It is lively in its cheap, plasticky design, and, importantly, it fits my seemingly archaic phone, which now clocks in at slightly over one year old.
It just arrived from Amazon where I paid a whopping $1.26 after enlisting my teenage daughter to help me locate one for my newly replaced phone which I purchased---with insurance, mind you---for $100.00. I am a far more savvy consumer than I appear to be, trust me.
But I was talking to my sister about our parents on my cell while grocery shopping, which means I attempted to cradle the cell phone in my neck while examining a pack of stupefyingly-out-of-season-strawberries. Said attempt resulted in what my kids would deem an "epic fail" when the cell phone launched off my shoulder, went airborn, soaring in a perfect arc toward the case of organic vegetables where it turned and spiraled downward, landing at my feet in a thunderous splat. When I turned it over, I could still hear my sister talking, blah blah blah, but immediately noted the black screen of death behind the spider web of shattered glass.
Gasp! "Not here, not now, shit, I don't have time for this," I sputtered into the phone. I knew all too well from a mere 2 months prior what the cost, both financial and convenience-wise was going to be. Because my teenage daughter had accidentally/carelessly let her cellphone slip from her fingers and launch from an even greater height: the loft hallway where it wafted onto a carpeted family room floor but only after its glass face nicked the wood cabinet on which sits a flat screen TV, which was mercifully spared in the phone's descent.
Honestly, the whole event lasted seconds but could have been a textbook problem in a high school physics class And let this be a lesson to you, adults: you need 2 hands to grocery shop!!! Stay off the damn phone. I now utter that mantra whenever I enter the Hen House or Target. This is not some harvest gold receiver with a 10 foot coil that will snake across the kitchen floor at high velocity and snap into a wall when dropped.
But this is:
Yes, a thoughtful and useful Christmas gift from my sister, which my daughter found hilarious. She gave one in black to our older brother who planned to use it on his 12-hour drive back to Michigan. We decided that if he got pulled over in states where talking on the phone is illegal, the ticket would run around $5.00 instead of $500.00.
From what we heard, he chatted up old college buddies and long-lost friends for hours to keep himself awake during the onerous drive.
Stay tuned for the next post, in which I blurt my philosophy of technology to my teenage daughter whose attention, surprisingly, was less than rapt.
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