Top Ten Things I miss about my Cell/Smart phone 


1. Texting. Anywhere, anytime. Texting added levity to my day, texture, if you will. Especially if the texts were auto corrected! http://www.damnyouautocorrect.com/

2. Google searches.  Anywhere, anytime. Gotta love the random questions that pop up through the day, google seeks to answer them.  Now, I ask them aloud, to anyone, anywhere, anytime.

3. The "do we need phone call." Do we need cat litter?  Do we need another box of wine?

4.  Alternatively, and perhaps used more frequently..."the can you get phone call?"  Can you get that cheese with the little bits of dill and garlic, you know the one with the green wrapper, tucked away at the back of the Italian centre by the salmon?  Or, yes, can you pick up another box of wine?

5.  Brick breaker.  Oh, how I long to master you, with your sturdy little balls bouncing all around.  I will control you yet. And I'll beat the record of any camera man at CBC too.

6. The way you felt in my hand.  Not in that silly little holder that way too many self important people wear on their belts, but rather the way I felt when I held you in my hand.  Confident. Knowledgeable. Important.  You need to know how to get to Seattle from here, check.  You need to know the weather in South Africa, check.

7. Your incessant beeping and red flashing light telling me, oh so dutifully, that I have a new message.  Pay attention to me now! These messages also helped me feel important, even if it was the twelfth one that day about the arena in Edmonton. wtf????

8. Its ability to make me feel more efficient at my work and relationships.  I'm walking and feel like talking, I call a friend. I'm waiting for the bus (and the glare is too bright to play brick breaker!) I start calling around on a story.

9. Multi tasking with phone in hand.  Oh, how efficient I once was! (phone call to father while grocery shopping -- it didn't matter that I bought the wrong Cheerios and I hung up having no clue what we just talked about.)

10. And finally, its seemingly magical ability to entertain small children.

Come on Join the Phone Ride

It's come to my attention that perhaps I'm stuck in the 80s.

Remember those days; when fashion choices were dictated by the edict 'the louder the better' and cell phones, if they were to be found, were as big as your arm.

I remember my first glimpse of a cell phone in an ex boyfriend's Dad's car.  It was the size of a small microwave and perhaps capable of transmitting as much radioactivity when making a call as when nuking your Michelina's dinner. I was in awe of the gadget, its rubberized casing, the small yellow buttons, the way it felt when you held it to your ear (hello, agent Estabrooks here, over.) I used it once, just to say hi to my Mum.  It was novel, and just like the phones of today, very much a status symbol.

I thought of that phone the other night while attending, er rocking out to, Roxette.

Oh yes, I joined the joyride.  While crooning to my favourite Roxette ballad I looked out to a sea of lit up phones (read here how long it's been since I've been to a concert!) The glowing Apple icons, those lit up screens connected us all and likely kept some hard core rockers from lighting their own amply hair-sprayed hair on fire.  I could have never lit up a concert with that ole rectangle microwave behemoth, let alone take a picture of the famed rocker.

Also of note was the sheer number of phones at the concert, and I suppose anywhere these days.  I guess when I'm in a large public venue, like the Saddledome, its all the more obvious how ubiquitous Apple products are among the masses.  I mean everybody has one. If you weren't swaying with your phone, you were definitely using it to communicate some *vitally* important information to someone, somewhere, and dear god, hope they were listening.  And why not, I suppose, why not let all of your hundreds of facebook, twitter followers in on your dirty little Roxette secret?

So little old me, phone-less wonder, I rocked out with my sister in law's phone to join the "phone ride." It was good, but I could have rocked just as well solo, thanks.

The 80s were good, they were loud, but nary did a cell phone ring, unless you were out too late in your boyfriend's Dad's car.

August 28, 2012

My husband, Graeme, and I share a joke about my navigational skills.  When I'm in urgent need of directions, let's say to the south side of Edmonton, or anywhere outside of my brain map comfort zone I simply call G-quest. A quick call usually solves it all and as of yet has not netted me a big fat $172 ticket http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/edmonton/story/2011/08/31/edmonton-distracted-driving-legislation.html for talking while driving (more on that in a later post.)

Why does this matter?  No phone equals no directions. A terrifying prospect for this country mouse turned city mouse. (Did I mention I have an aversion to reading a map.)

For example, during a recent foray into the traffic of north Edmonton big box hell I was completely and utterly lost. I'd driven into the urban jungle on a mission for a small rodent like toy creature my daughter adores. Driving around aimlessly and saying I couldn't find the store wasn't an option.

Out loud with daughter listening I say "hot damn, I'm really lost."

A moment passes and a small, eager voice pipes up, "Mum, just ask someone."

Oh dear.  Of course.  Cell phone dependency check one.


Thankfully, I've inherited my mother's gift of the gab and will seize upon just about anyone for directions, the time, or just to have a chat. I relish the chance of talking to a stranger, squeezing out small tidbits of their life. Chance encounters can be wonderfully illuminating experiences.


Where has this side of me gone?  With phone in hand I never asked for directions.  G-quest was my ally, google maps my guiding light, safari my navigator wherever I went.  Forget the lowly human on the street. Until now.

We weave through traffic to Toys R Us. I implore a cashier for directions. She seems confused by my request. No matter, with a smile and a nod I'm northbound, eyes open for a large mall on the left side of the road.

I can do it.  Already, I'm gloating in my head and anticipating recounting my navigational prowess over dinner later that day.

And then I drive, and drive and drive, until I can't drive anymore.  The gas gauge seems to have slipped down a notch. My son is crying, Ella announces "Mum you're lost" and I pull into an apartment complex defeated.

I have no choice, I turn around, returning the way I came.  I drive slower, concentrating, thinking. I approach a crosswalk, slowing to allow pedestrians to cross, yelling at one of them, any of them, please, please, look this way. A man stops, he's a firefighter.  No I'm not in trouble, I tell him, I just need directions.  He obliges with a smile.

I'm smiling too. A little human contact in silent suburbia. And bang on directions.

August 25, 2012

Back and truly cell phone free now!

Ditched the cheap piece of crap in Montreal, not so willingly, I might add.  Lost the damn thing likely in a sofa crack at the hotel.  Instead of buying another CPC (cheap piece o' crap) or one of its more expensive and beautiful cousins I've opted to begin this technology free experiment in earnest.

Phone free.  woooo hoo here I go.

Rules apply as previously stated.