I finally figured out that the empty squares I received along with texts were pictures my friends had attempted to send from their latest smart phone. Unfortunately, they had sent them to my beloved, but antiquated, flip-phone. Begrudgingly, I decided it was time to enter the twenty-first century, and acquire one of these devices for my own. My main concern, am I smart enough for a smart phone? Historically, me and technology don’t mix. In fact, I had my flip-phone for several years before I figured out that I could send text with it. It’s a known fact that my brother, Rich, got 90% of the tech-savvy in our family, and the rest of us, maybe 10%(and that’s being generous). Sad, but true. Note to young women, marry a tech-savvy/auto mechanic/plumber who can cook–you’ll thank me later. Even if he looks like a Duck Dynasty reject, the first time he fixes your computer, car or toilet you’ll see him in a whole new way–and, in the right light(say the dim light of a computer), he might even look kinda sexy. Sadly, I did not marry such a fellow, and am left to figure out these things myself. Boo hoo!
The following “true” account perfectly illustrates my technophobia. I was thrilled to procure a position as a paralegal at a prestigious law firm after graduating from college. Once they showed me to my office, and introduced me to my co-workers, it was time to learn the firm’s phone system. Graduating Summa Cum Laude, learning a phone system would be a piece of cake. As instructed, I called the receptionist, who would assist me in setting up my voice mail–something I’d never used before in any previous employment. I breezed through the first set of instructions, no problem. Next, the receptionist instructed me to “Pound seven”. Thinking it a bit odd, but determined to follow her instructions to the letter, I firmly touched the seven key with my index finger, with as much force as I could without breaking my fingernail. Not getting the result I was supposed to get, I asked the very patient receptionist to repeat her instruction one more time. So, again she said, “Pound seven”. With as much force as I could muster, I began poking the seven key, causing me to cramp in my finger. “Any luck?” “No–I’m pounding the seven key as hard as I can, and it doesn’t seem to be working.” First, awkward silence, then, hysterical laughter could be heard on the other end of the line. Realizing my ignorance, the receptionist, quite sweetly, remarked that “pound” referred to the number(#) sign on the phone’s keypad. Index finger still throbbing, and pride a bit injured, I finally managed to successfully set up my voice mail. To her credit, the receptionist never mentioned this incident to anyone–and I decided not to file a Worker’s Comp claim for the finger I injured while setting up my phone.
So, you can understand my aversion to Smart Phones. Even the name is intimidating. Bravely, I finally took the plunge, and ordered a Smart Phone, an android smart phone, to be exact. Sounds like technology from another planet. As far as I’m concerned, it might as well be. It took me an entire week to work up the courage to actually open the box once the phone shipped, because I knew that once it was opened and activated, there was no going back. I decided to learn how my new phone worked on a weekend, so I’d have time to watch some of the “how-to” videos online. I managed to enter my contacts from my old phone, and could silence the phone. What else did I need to learn? So, as usual, I took my son to school, and told him to give me a call when he was ready to be picked up. Which he did–except for one problem, I kept trying to answer the phone, by touching the green phone icon, but was never connected to my son. Three more calls, and loads of frustration later, I realized that I didn’t know how to answer my new phone. Totally embarrassed, I finally headed over to where my son was supposed to be. Thankfully, aware that I might be having problems using my new toy, he’d wisely come out of the building to meet me. When I told him what had happened, I asked him to help me figure this thing out. Looking at my phone, Zach said, “Mom, I think you need to swipe it.” Simple as that. At last I could answer my phone. So much for Summa Cum Laude.
Not exactly a Smart Phone guru, one thing’s for sure, you won’t find me texting while driving. Hey, maybe I’m smart enough for a Smart Phone, after all.