Ding-A-Ling

In an effort to make myself a more annoying mindless member of the human herd, I finally committed myself (well, not literally but near enough in my opinion) to buying myself a cell phone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a complete technosaur.  

I’ve been sort of/kind of using a phone that my brother-in-law found somewhere and gave to me when we moved here in 2005 but it was one of those big and bulky ancient numbers that work on unpredictable high voltage electronic pulse beams that fly dangerously between other mobile phones (just like the one you keep in your front pocket even though you know fine and rightly that you’re cooking your naughty bits with gamma rays). Well, maybe that’s not how they work but I still keep mine in my jacket hanging up on the other side of the room. You do you want you want. 

Anyway, I now have my very first personal mobile phone that I paid for and I admit that I thoroughly enjoyed the first 3 minutes putting the SIM card and battery in place. Even peeling off the screen protector had a sort of new gadget nerd moment for me.

But after that I was bored.

I was actually glad that I couldn’t do anything more with it until the battery was fully charged (now, don’t try telling me that I could have set it up WHILE it was charging. I won’t hear nonsense like that!).  

The next day, I spent an additional 5 minutes inputting (do kids still ‘input’ information? If they’re anything like the kids in our area they’re more likely to spend their free time beating cars with sticks (don’t ask)) numbers of the only two people I have cell numbers for (my wife and Jett Loe– but then, everyone has Jett’s number) before I was again bored into semi-consciousness and turned on a soccer match. THAT’S how bored I was.  

My wife used to hate cell’s as much as me but over the past year or so she has taken a shine to ‘texting’ her friends. As a welcome to my new Access-All-Hours lifestyle, she sent me a smart ass text saying something like ‘I heart U’ or ‘pwned!’ or ‘d00d’ or some such crap. She was quite smug about it. 

So after roughly 30 minutes of swearing and ferociously stabbing at tiny number buttons that refused to do what I wanted, I finally managed to send my very first text message which was: 

‘U R Gay!’ 

I guess I brought it on myself.

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11 Comments

  1. Text messaging is truly annoying. I don’t know people do it. I guess that means I’m old or lame. Probably both. Does it also mean I’m lame that I’m the only person on that planet that doesn’t have Jett’s number?

    You could do like me and put crap in my phone like “storage unit”, “my dentist” and “library”.

  2. I’m actually making an effort to find numbers to put on my phone. Hadn’t thought about ‘library’ and ‘dentist’ but they are now on the list. Thanks for the tip.

  3. Woo Hoo! Welcome to the electronic frontier, Wayne. 🙂 The mobiles are good for emergencies and the like, but they also make our lives more complicated.

  4. I know what you mean.

    I was never to much for cell phones either until my son was born 20 months ago. Born sick, and we had to have one incase we needed to dial 911 at any given moment…..he got better, but we still had the contract so we kept it, now the hubby has developed an affinity for text messaging me….and ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh how I hate it.

  5. Ah, Nikki… that’s the rub. It starts out as something for “emergency only” and then you get hooked on being able to phone, text, annoy anyone at any time.

    And now my wife not only texts me on my phone but she’ll text my work phone (which automatically translates the text into a weird robotic woman’s voice).

    Today, for example, she texted “Happy Birthday to my sexy love pot”. You can imagine the surprise on my face when I answered that call.

  6. I only have a cell phone. No home phone or land line which ever you prefer to call it. The only problem I’ve encountered in making the transition is coming home and for a brief second wondering if I have any messages. Ha! Then of course I come back to reality and realize I no longer own an answering machine. Oh, yea, I had all the texting and internet and up-to-date weather forecasts and all that stuff turned off on my phone . I’ve found with my cell phone if I press the correct combination of buttons on it I can call someone and talk to them.
    aint technology wonderful?

  7. Is that what those little buttons are for? Damn!

  8. I find something comforting in your refusal to own your own cell phone (in a technologically backwards sort of way).

    I am not a fan of cell phones, except for their convenience if ever I am trapped under a large stone.

    I am constantly harrassed by people who “cant’ reach me” on my cell phone. duh! It’s because when I’m eating lunch I don’t want to talk to your dumb ass! Leave me alone!!

  9. Yes. That’s the excuse I finally used to justify a phone Phil. The “trapped under a large stone” story.
    And, no, I wont’ answer my phone on lunch time. Or after 5:30. Or before 9:00. Or on the weekend. Or when I’m napping. Or snacking. Or working. Or pretending to work. Or at home.

  10. Wayne! You’re in The United Great Kingdom of Britain. We don’t have “Cellphones”: we got “Mobiles” in these parts o’the world.

    Enjoy your new phone!

    Stephen

    PS. Adam got a new mobile for his 12th birthday, and he’s driving me mad using it as a Ghetto-Blaster, web browser, MS Office document viewer, email client, video player, photo album, data storage device and Instant Messenger Client. Do modern mobiles actually make phone calls any more?

  11. Wait. Kid’s have mobiles over here? I never would’ve thunk it. I thought it was an evolutionary third appendage.


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