My husband got a new cell phone.
His contract was up and his current phone was crappy.
Anyway, since the new iPhone whatever just came out, the not-so-new-and-barely-old iPhone whatever is now drastically reduced in price by $600 thereby catapulting it into our meagre price range and allowing us to have hip and trendy phoning, surfing, texting and whatever else-ing capabilities.
Of course, by "our" I mean "our". And by "us" I mean "him".
But that's ok. I have a cell phone. Granted, it is a hand-me-down phone from my mother-in-law who handed it down to my father-in-law (remember him? The one who mumbles about pie?) who handed it down to me when he got a new phone. Come to think of it, I think he's gotten one or two new phones since then...
But I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I have options, you know? I mean, I could use my husbands old, crappy phone. Or one of many old phones that still work that people I know have abandoned to get the newest iPhone this-n-that or slide out whatchamacallit. Or I'm sure with little to no convincing I could even get a new free phone from the powers-that-be.
But honestly? I don't even want to.
What was that? Did I just hear a resounding "Why?" emanating from the blogosphere? Am I boycotting this wonderful technology? Am I sitting on a high horse, looking down my nose at all things "i"? Heavens-to-Betsy, of course not! It's not that at all!
It's just that my cell phone is AWESOME.
You know how when some people enter a room and all heads turn to behold their presence? Well, that's how it is when I make a phone call. All eyes are on me. Well, actually my phone. But at that point it's attached to my hand so we might as well be one and the same - bottom line: IT'S A SHOW STOPPER. Take a look.
I pull my lovely (let's call it navy) blue phone from my bag - its wrist strap dangling wistfully as I poise my hand at the ready - but just when the onlookers think I'm about to start pressing numbers, they are taken aback (!) as I quickly flip open the... flip... thing to reveal the humble keypad and its classic silicone number buttons. (At this instant, if one is extremely astute and perceptive, one might even catch a glimpse of the glimmer in my eye as I contemplate - just for a moment! - the artfully pixillated digits on the neon green display screen!)
After the chosen number has been remembered and keyed into the phone, the onlookers are surprised once again (!) by a skillfully choreographed flourish of my hand as it PULLS UP THE ANTENNA in a glorious display of both grace and dexterity.
At this point, I am filled with contentment because, once again, the use of my cell phone has brought happiness into the heart of whomever is with me. I can tell because they are laughing. (This laughter, however genuine, is often bewilderingly accompanied by shocked phrases such as, "WHAT is THAT?!" or "Is THAT your PHONE?!". I'm not entirely sure why... but as long as the statements are paired with laughter, I'm of the opinion that it matters not. Bringing a little joy into the world is enough for me. I don't need to get bogged down in the details of things. Plus, a little mystery is good for the soul, I always say.)
And so there you have it. Why on earth would I want to "upgrade" my phone? It still works fine! I mean really, sliding keyboards? Pretentious! Touch screens? Lazy!! And who really needs to text, anyway? It's just a passing fad!! And another thing, get off my lawn!!