iAmdroid
My new Droid X rocks. I finally have my very first smart phone and I'm really enjoying it. The only thing I'm not liking is that it doesn't have a reminder notification. It rings when I get a voice mail or text, but it never rings beyond the first time. My old phone beeped at me every two minutes to remind me, even if I didn't pick it up for hours.
The other day, I asked my co-worker if his iPhone had a reminder notification and he told me that it beeped once or twice but that was it. He then asked me why I even needed a reminder; aren't you constantly checking your phone?
Um, no. Why would I do that? Unless I'm expecting a call or text every few minutes, why would I need to check it all the time?
And I realized that his question raised a serious pet peeve with me. I hate it when people are constantly checking their phones when they're supposed to be doing something with you. Case in point: A couple of weeks ago we took the kids to Sea World for the first time, and my husband spent more than half the afternoon walking around with his nose buried in his new iPhone. It irritated me to no end that Facebook (or Twitter or whatever) was somehow more important than the kids seeing Shamu for the first time. And it's not just Sea World. It's dinner, the movies, you name it. It's like nothing is more fascinating than the phone.
And really, who can blame him? He's in great company. You rarely see a person walking (or worse, driving) around these days--teenager or adult--without their face buried in their cell phone. Am I the only one who finds this frustrating? All these electronic/telecommunication corporations have spawned a generation of iPeople, so focused on being present in the virtual that we forget to be present for the ones we're with. It's as though we can't bear to miss anything, but at the cost of missing what's right in front of us. Oh, the irony.
If you’re socializing with someone, it's plain rude to carry on a separate conversation with someone else. With one eye on your phone and only half your attention directed at me, I can't help but feel less important than whoever it is you're talking to. There's nothing wrong with checking your phone if you're expecting a message, but if we're going out and all you want to do is browse Facebook the whole time, you should have just stayed home, because it's insulting.
Before you tell me oh stop bitching, you'll assimilate quite nicely into our culture of androids now that you have your own smart phone, let me point out that I’ve had an iPad for five months and while I’m often quite engaged with it on my own time, I can assure you that it's nowhere to be seen when my friends come over for a visit. And if I ever bring it (or my phone) out when I'm supposed to be socializing, rest assured that it's my way of telling you that you're just not that interesting.
Yeah, I'll admit I'm yelling down at you from my moral high ground, but you can retaliate with smug self-righteousness because you know I'm alone. The truth is, it's really lonely up here and the view sucks.
Yes, I carry my phone with me everywhere, and there is only one reason for it: it’s because I have two small children and if something major happens (like when Kieran had a seizure or when Killian sliced her eyebrow open, both of which happened at school), I want to be instantly reachable.
Call me old-fashioned. Hell, call me OLD. I’ll be one of those cantankerous elderly people complaining about those damn kids and their technologies. Stand up straight! Look at me when I’m talking to you! And stay off my goddamn lawn!
Back at the dolphin exhibit, the kids watched excitedly as a pair of dolphins raced across the pool and leaped in tandem. The wonder on their faces was precious. "Whoa! Did you see that?" they yelled.
"What happened?" my husband asked, looking up from his phone, finger poised.
"Nothing," I shook my head. "You missed it."
The other day, I asked my co-worker if his iPhone had a reminder notification and he told me that it beeped once or twice but that was it. He then asked me why I even needed a reminder; aren't you constantly checking your phone?
Um, no. Why would I do that? Unless I'm expecting a call or text every few minutes, why would I need to check it all the time?
And I realized that his question raised a serious pet peeve with me. I hate it when people are constantly checking their phones when they're supposed to be doing something with you. Case in point: A couple of weeks ago we took the kids to Sea World for the first time, and my husband spent more than half the afternoon walking around with his nose buried in his new iPhone. It irritated me to no end that Facebook (or Twitter or whatever) was somehow more important than the kids seeing Shamu for the first time. And it's not just Sea World. It's dinner, the movies, you name it. It's like nothing is more fascinating than the phone.
And really, who can blame him? He's in great company. You rarely see a person walking (or worse, driving) around these days--teenager or adult--without their face buried in their cell phone. Am I the only one who finds this frustrating? All these electronic/telecommunication corporations have spawned a generation of iPeople, so focused on being present in the virtual that we forget to be present for the ones we're with. It's as though we can't bear to miss anything, but at the cost of missing what's right in front of us. Oh, the irony.
If you’re socializing with someone, it's plain rude to carry on a separate conversation with someone else. With one eye on your phone and only half your attention directed at me, I can't help but feel less important than whoever it is you're talking to. There's nothing wrong with checking your phone if you're expecting a message, but if we're going out and all you want to do is browse Facebook the whole time, you should have just stayed home, because it's insulting.
Before you tell me oh stop bitching, you'll assimilate quite nicely into our culture of androids now that you have your own smart phone, let me point out that I’ve had an iPad for five months and while I’m often quite engaged with it on my own time, I can assure you that it's nowhere to be seen when my friends come over for a visit. And if I ever bring it (or my phone) out when I'm supposed to be socializing, rest assured that it's my way of telling you that you're just not that interesting.
Yeah, I'll admit I'm yelling down at you from my moral high ground, but you can retaliate with smug self-righteousness because you know I'm alone. The truth is, it's really lonely up here and the view sucks.
Yes, I carry my phone with me everywhere, and there is only one reason for it: it’s because I have two small children and if something major happens (like when Kieran had a seizure or when Killian sliced her eyebrow open, both of which happened at school), I want to be instantly reachable.
Call me old-fashioned. Hell, call me OLD. I’ll be one of those cantankerous elderly people complaining about those damn kids and their technologies. Stand up straight! Look at me when I’m talking to you! And stay off my goddamn lawn!
Back at the dolphin exhibit, the kids watched excitedly as a pair of dolphins raced across the pool and leaped in tandem. The wonder on their faces was precious. "Whoa! Did you see that?" they yelled.
"What happened?" my husband asked, looking up from his phone, finger poised.
"Nothing," I shook my head. "You missed it."