My phone does next to nothing

I’ve noticed a something unsettling. 

Let’s say you’re in a meeting.  A totally awesome meeting, being led by a dashing young(ish) analyst with dynamic facial hair and the body of a Greek god (Dionysus was the fat, drunk one, right?).  There’s charts and graphs, insightful synthesis of new ideas, thoughtful analysis of markets, wit.  But you, office denizen, are entirely uninterested.  What do you do to avoid engaging in this KICK-ASS meeting?  Look at your Blackberry.  Uh-oh, maybe you got an e-mail in the last few seconds that desperately needs your attention.  Better check and see.  And carefully re-read those last seven massages.  Carefully.

These office denizens have started their sloping journey into complete withdrawal from humanity and are practically entering the world of the computer.  Like Tron.  They can avoid meetings or conversations by simply retreating into the soft, ambient comfort of their smart phones.  They can snap a photo of a place they looked up on Google while playing Angry Birds With Friends and post the entire experience on Facebook.  No human interaction necessary.  The unsettling thing I’ve noticed though, is that I cannot do any of that!

If smart phones do all that neat stuff, my phone is stupid.  Very stupid.  It can’t really take photos worth showing to anyone, it can’t get on the internet, it does not have games that are enjoyable in the slightest, and it doesn’t really do that well with phone calls.  What does my phone do well, I can hear no one ask?  I’ll tell you: lose buttons.  Buttons fall off my phone like a champ.  Buttons fall off my phone so frequently that I suspect some weird form of call phone leprosy.  I think this phone is actually worse that my very first cell phone eleven years ago.  I mean, at least that one kept its buttons AND I could play Snake on it. That game was awesome!  Snake goes around, eats the apple, gets bigger, and five minutes later fun has been achieved.  Not even close with my current phone.

So why do I care?  I have no intentions of spending money on a new phone; this one still works (sorta).  Maybe I’m jealous.  Jealous that others can find maps, check box scores (that’s still a thing people do, right?), update their social networking whatsits.  Maybe I’m jealous that they have their own personal refuge. At any given moment they can halt a conversation or meeting under the guise of urgent, important business, while I must remain present and (somewhat) attentive. They have an escape hatch, an out, a Zack-Morris-like ability to take a “time-out”, freeze the world and be somewhere else.  I merely have a Zach-Morris-like cell phone.

I don’t really think that modern, technology-driven escape routes are a good thing.  Being present with those around you is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself; the things you’ll hear and learn are priceless.  Smartphones and escape hatches cut us off from people, from knowledge, and from friendship.  I just wish I had them every once in a while, like we all do.  What I really want is to play a game or twelve of Snake.