I really don’t even want a cell phone anymore
All this technology is supposed to make our lives better. I use the phone all the time at work. It definitely saves time when I can call a guy already at Lowe’s and say, “Oh yeah, bring me another 5 lb box of screws too.” And cell phones are a blessing in emergencies. A few weeks ago when Dad was going to the hospital with chest pains and a buddy of mine called me before Ma even had a chance to. It’s not an absolute necessity, but it’s very nice to have a lot of time.
Lately I’ve become all too aware of how frustrated I’ve become with having a cell phone. It’s nothing personal against anyone I know and I don’t want any of you to have second thoughts about calling me anytime you want. I’m just getting disenchanted with always being able to be reached out and touched, constantly connected to the whole wired world.
I always consider just getting rid of my phone when I start having problems with it. I bought a slightly nicer phone than usual last time. It’s a flip phone with a full color screen. It plays MP3s and videos. It does internet, takes pictures and can use a memory card. The best part was that in places like my apartment where there’s no cell service, it can use the wireless internet signal instead. That was the major selling point.
It’s given me about a year of decent service. Most of the time I cause physical damage to a phone long before the circuits are ready to die. This time it’s going from the inside out. The hinge and the buttons are like new. Even most of the paint is still intact. I can’t say why it’s messing up. It’s been in the humidity and the dust and the heat and the cold, everywhere I’ve been. I think that plays a major role in the malfunction of the electronics I own.
