Lockport Union-Sun & Journal — I don’t think I am alone when I say that my cell phone is ruining my life.
Conversing via telephone used to be simple, you’d call your friend, ask their mom if they could come outside and play and then you met them outside. So easy a child could do it, but today; someone calls me and I silence the ringer, unlock my phone (via a swipe pattern I always mess up the first time) and send a text that asks “what up?”
Not to be the young Andy Rooney, but forget cell phones, I miss the days of the public phone booth.
It used to be that in order to embarrass yourself you had to do something stupid in front of someone who was a reliable source who would then recount your moment of shame to the people that you both knew. All scandals had a relatively short shelf life and could only spread to a limited number of people.
That is not the case in an post-iPhone world, just ask Brett Favre circa 2010 (sexting scandal), Anthony Weiner (‘private photo’ tweeted to the world) or Greek Olympic Triple Jumper Voula Papachristou (Twitter is not the place for racist jokes).
You don’t even have to be famous to be immortalized in the hall of great #fails, just ask anyone who has appeared in a viral video like “hipsters falling on ice” a Youtube video compilation of cell phone-shot videos of young people falling on an icy corner in Brooklyn.
For many years I, like many of you, lived in blissful ignorance with a non-smart phone that received sideways glances from my ‘technology savvy’ friends, but handled the essentials (calling, texting) with aplomb. As someone known as a destroyer of phones (20+ phones in 4 years) I knew never get too attached as this phone would only be visiting me for a short time before it fell out of my pocket, down an insanely long flight of stairs and into a puddle (actually happened to me).