Saturday, March 16, 2019

cell phones and me

So,. I was supposed to be on a conference call at 1 p.m. and was reading a book (Tami Hogg's The Boy--read it) and was a little late calling in.

Then, when I dialed the number, my phone told me to switch off 'airplane mode' to make a call.

I don't even know how to get onto 'airplane mode' much less how to switch off. But there was a little airplane at the top of my phone and I hit on that and it took me 10 minutes at least, to turn it off and I couldn't tell you how I did it even now.

So, I was late for the call.

I hate my cell phone. I know nothing about it and have no interest in learning.

I'd just like to take it down to West Haven and see how far out in the Long Island Sound I could throw it.

But I need to have it, I know.

I don't get email on it--don't ask me why, I don't know. But that's a blessing since I only want email on my computer where I can look once a day. Just me and my way of coping.

I have a friend who has the exact same phone and figured out how to talk to it and make it do things for him.

I don't know how to make it do that and really don't care that I don't.

I don't even like to talk to our TV and tell it things.

I was meant for a pre-social media time. I know it.

I was meant to write letters and make phone calls--not email and text.

And taking pictures with my phone--I have lots of pictures with my thumb in them and don't know how to erase them.

Or 'delete them'.

I don't even know the language to use.

Hopeless, I am, with my cell phone.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive

About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.