My Love-Hate Relationship with My Smartphone
My iPhone hates me. Oh, I know exactly why. I’ve referred to
it too often as my dumb smartphone. So in revenge, it continues to garble my
dictated text messages. I watch as a message which makes perfect sense changes
a word the instant I hit “send.”
It happened again this morning. I wanted to text a friend
about seeing a production of The Music
Man at a local high school.
My dictated message read “do you want to see the music man at
Strasburg?” I meant Stroudsburg, but was sure my friend would pick up on that
since we live nowhere near Strasburg and people confuse the two towns all the
time anyway. That’s why I carefully spell out the name if I order anything over
the phone which these days is seldom. I can type faster than I can correct
spelling, so I generally order stuff on line.
Back to my vengeful iPhone. I swear, the millisecond I hit “send”
the word “see” turned into “Siri” in front of my very eyes. So I immediately
followed up with a second text indicating that correction. And a third text,
saying “I figured you would probably know that Strasburg meant Stroudsburg.”
Okay, I plead guilty … I didn’t proofread what I had just typed and the message
that was sent read “met” for “meant.” Text #4 read “meant.”
Response: “You’re a mess.”
“It’s not me. My phone hates me.”
“Overuse. Needs a vacation.”
“Needs to have AutoCorrect turned off.”
I know that’s the case. But the majority of the time having
AutoCorrect is a pretty great thing. My phone finishes my thoughts and adds
exactly the word I need. One of my least favorite things about the phone is the
lack of a Qwerty keyboard. With a real
keyboard I can type nearly as fast as I think. My iPhone 4S is handicapped. My
friends are all flashing their snazzy new iPhone 6s at me. I’m still a few
months away from my two year anniversary as an iPhone owner.
I learned to text in self-defense. Over the years I’ve spent
a lot of time with teenagers, both as private voice students and as cast
members in a musical theater production.
About eight or nine years ago, I am in the middle of a
lesson with a young baritone. He glances down at his side and announces: “Jamie
says she is going to be late for her lesson.”
He had his cell phone on vibrate, pulled it out of his
pocket just far enough to read the message, and relayed it to me. I needed to
be able to do that.
I’d resisted even getting a cell phone until a few years
before that. What convinced me to break down and take advantage of this
technology was a trip to a costumer in New York. Not in New York City, mind
you, in a barn near Port Jervis, New York, just up the road and across the
Delaware. Three of us had agreed to go to look at costumes for the upcoming
production. One of our party lived north of East Stroudsburg and we agreed to
meet her at a resort about a half hour north of us.
We arrived a little early and settled in to wait for Joanne.
Time passed. More time passed. The cold rain was turning to sleet, and we knew
she lived at an even higher elevation. I finally said I’d find a pay phone and
call her to see if she wasn’t going to make it.
Sounds like an easy solution, doesn’t it? This was a very
large resort. I went into the nearest building and saw a bank of pay phones.
Not one of them was operating. I
walked through the sleet to a neighboring building. Same story. We turned
around, drove to an eating establishment where we finally found a pay phone
that would accept my quarter. This was a Friday, and the next Monday I
purchased my first cell phone.
Texting took forever. Painful. The phone was one of those where the
letters were on the numbers so you had to figure out which number to press for
every letter in every word. Not too long after that I bought a flip phone with
an honest-to-goodness keyboard. Now I was cookin’!
I was a happy texter for a long time, until I began to be
jealous of the wonderful pictures my friends were taking with their iPhones. I
seldom took pictures. My children had a deprived childhood because I took such
poor pictures I seldom even tried. The only way they know what they looked like
at certain times of their life was the annual school photo. And a few pictures
other nice people took. And some nice blurs Mom contributed.
So two years ago this coming July I broke down, went to the
AT&T store (sorry, Verizon), and became the happy owner of a
smartphone. And everything was lovely until the company decided to update the
software on the phone. That’s when the trouble started. I don’t think my iPhone
wanted to be updated.
Recently I was texting my daughter-in-law about plans, and
tried to sign off with hugs and kisses: you know, xxooxx. The phone sent “xxoocan.”
What?? So I tried to explain, “I don’t
know where that ‘can’ came from.” True to form, my dumb smartphone changed the
word “can” to “camera” as the message went to send.
Well, at least I know I am entertaining the recipients of my
weird text messages. And I can take pretty nifty photos!
********
And I’ll bet you thought I wasn’t going to stoop to
shameless self-promotion in this entire blog post. Book Expo at the Eastern
Monroe Library on Saturday, April 18, 2015, from 10 a.m. until 3 p.m. Large
crowd of local authors will be there hoping you will buy their books, but I know you’ll find me and buy one of mine.
Just in case you don’t have the titles burned into your brain, they are How I Grew Up, Eli’s Heart, and You Are My Song.
pretty picture I took with my iPhone
I loved this one. As usual, our tech experiences are similar, but you're way ahead of me. My texting problem is fat fingers and teeny letters (not to mention the compulsion to punctuate.)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mikie. I was inspired by my friend Lynn and our conversation via texts. We often talk that way and she's had to deal with my dictated text messages more than once. When I try to "type" my messages out I get impatient so I resort to dictating to sometimes disastrous results. July 17 is 6 Day!
ReplyDelete