Monday, September 17, 2012

The I-Phone and Fat Thumbs


I bought an I-Phone through my phone services provider.  I lost my "regular" cell two months ago.  It was either off or not charged as even calling couldn’t help me determine its whereabouts.

 I am 99.5% sure it is in my house in the black hole.  I know this because a television remote went missing shortly thereafter and we have not been able to locate it either.  I do not take it out with me or in the car or to friends so we must have another dimension here.

I really did want to get a smart phone.  The urge started when a fellow student in my writing class read one of his stories and in it, he used the word “Droid”.  After, lively discussion took place as to whether everyone would understand that reference.  The consensus was that no one would think he meant the thing on Star Wars or Star Trek.   After all, everyone is up and in the digital age.

Well, I sat there in shock.  I am in my 50’s and he is in his 70’s and there are older members in that group and clearly I’m the only one that thought he was referring to a Star Wars character.  So, I had been perplexed by his reference to using a Droid because it was ringing.

 It took some convincing for my husband to consider thinking about me getting an I-Phone.  The cost was a concern for him as well as what he thinks of as my lack of technical expertise.  He is also very practical and buys things according to their usage value, and wanted to know what I would do on an I-phone that I couldn’t do on a regular cell.  He also does this when we shop for household goods/furniture; asking: “where did you plan to put this?” Come on?  Who knows the answer to that question?

So, naturally, I respond, “I don’t know…maybe, when I’m out and about, I can look up stuff.”

“How often are you out now since we got the puppy and you retired?” he asked, as if I’d become a hermit, which I am not (not so much anyway).

“It would help me and organize my life and if I am stuck somewhere on a line or in a Doctor’s office I could read my emails or surf the net and research.”

This got the look.  After a week of my phone being missing and I think his frustration in being unable to contact and find me (the one who never goes out), he decided we needed to shut off my old lost phone and get a new one.

Well, the guy in the Verizon place was great.   Though I had seen the husband’s points before arriving there, I shifted gears when I found out I could get a new I-Phone for  $99;  about what I’d have to pay for a regular phone, and they wouldn’t hold me to my current contract that still had about 6 months on it.  And, it would only cost us $20 a month more, for me to be happy.  Win, win, I said.

So, the guy, looking at my husband, who appears totally woeful and chagrined and has quizzed me on my ability to handle such a high level instrument asks him – clearly afraid, “So, do you want a few minutes to talk about this alone, together?”

“No”, says the husband, “she wants it”.  He knows me and when I say I want something, that’s that.

So, I got the I-Phone and discovered I have a terrible malady affecting my ability to use it properly.  My thumbs are disproportionately fat.  My chunky pads hover over the keys such that I invariably land up pressing the key to the right of the one I want.

Sometimes, I don’t even know I’ve pressed something, my pads are so fat and the phone so damned sensitive that I perform functions I did not mean to.

 It takes me forever to text; to do anything for that matter.  Who knew?   I was so proud of learning to text quickly on a regular cell.  We’d both fought texting but went kicking and screaming into the new media communication age when we learned that bosses, co-workers, kids, and relatives under 30 didn’t know how to answer the phone or talk into it.  So we had to get with it and learn to text if we wanted to talk to anyone outside of ourselves and our parents.

And now, I jumped right into the chasm…to learn I have fat fingers and must lose weight and exercise to get a more suitable thumb for the phone.  Just so you know…before you buy one – go on a diet.



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