Guess who has a smart phone and
doesn't know how to use it?
That's right, I am now the proud owner
of a smarter-than-me phone. But I'm in good company. According to a
recent study, 50% to 75% of people age 30 and older who have a smart
phone don't really know how to use it (“A
Recent Study,” June 2013, Center for Completely Fabricated
Statistics).
Now I can make and receive calls any
time, anyplace, get directions, check the weather, and research
surrounding landmarks, restaurants and gas stations. All from the
comfort of my phone.
In theory, that is.
The fact of the matter is that it
would probably be quicker for me to make my call from home (we are
one of the 5% of Americans, according to the CCFS, who still have a
“land line”), check a map for directions, look out the window to
see if it's raining, and just drive around cluelessly until I happen
upon my destination.
I got along just fine with my plain
old, slow, boring (but reliable) cell phone. But I've been plum 'et
up with jealousy since the first time I saw someone access
Accuweather on their phone. Watching my dear husband get directions
on his phone turned me green with envy. Listening to the Princess
snicker whenever I tried – and failed – to use her smart phone
just about drove me insane.
But I stuck firm to my Luddite beliefs
that a cell phone should be just that: a phone, not a hand held
computer. Being able to make or receive a call in a car at will
(within reason) was technological marvel enough! Accessing the
internet from the passenger seat was just too much for a mere mortal
to aspire to! Icarus, watch out for the sun!
In the end, I fell victim to creeping
technology-itis.
Texting was my gateway tech-drug.
Sending brief messages to the dear husband and our little angels made
life so much easier. We could converse phrase by phrase (or word by
word) as time permitted, not committing to long, meaningful
conversations.
Then the Princess showed me how to
access my email account on my old phone. I didn't care if it was
almost all spam; suddenly I could receive ads for Viagra no matter
where I was! I could surf the web, too, as long as I didn't actually
need to read anything on the teeny-tiny screen.
Then there were the Doubting Thomases,
whose disparagement only fueled my determination.
“You don't want a smart phone,” my
darling husband said, “you'll just get frustrated when you can't
get it to do what you want.”
“I had to show you how to work the
phone you have,” my darling daughter said.
“If you had a smart phone, you could
look up the answer – HAHAHAHAH,” said my darling son.
True, I worked very hard to cultivate
an air of technological ineptitude. Perhaps I made myself out to be a
little too technologically challenged. But why should I go to all the
trouble to learn how to change my screen saver when someone else was
there to do it for me? Why should I waste time trying to download the
Kim Possible ring tone, when someone else volunteered to do it?
The division of labor in our house is
pretty clear cut. If it involves technology someone else takes care
of it. If it involves cooking, cleaning or other household chores, I
take care of it.
But no more! The revolution is upon
us! I am upsetting the balance of power.
With the Princess busy figuring out
her own new phone, I took action. After struggling unsuccessfully to
add my email account to my apps, I broke down and downloaded the
manual for my phone – by myself (En Espaňole
primero). I've always been able to read instruction, just too lazy to
actually do it on more than a need to know basis. This time I had the
need and I wanted to know.
So far I have conquered the email app,
deleted and arranged icons, changed the screen saver, managed my ring
tones, added and deleted contacts, sent and received texts and used
the camera.
There's only one thing I haven't done
yet:
Made a phone call.
