Tag Archives: cell phones

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Smart phone is smarter than I thought

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ON THE HIGHWAY BETWEEN HOLBROOK AND PAYSON, Ariz. — You’ve heard already about my addiction to my cell phone.

I’m about to tell you about another discovery my wife and I have made about this annoying device.

It has a Global Positioning System, which is good.

My wife programmed the GPS to guide us to our destination in Mesa, Ariz. Her cell phone, which is identical to mine, charted a route to our destination. It gave us the road directions and posted an estimated time of arrival, just like the other GPS devices we own.

Then it started beeping at us — or, more to the point, at me.

Why the beeping noise? The phone knew how fast I was driving and was beeping at me, the driver, to remind me that I was exceeding the speed limit. Not by a lot, mind you. If the speed limit on the highway was 65 mph, and I was traveling at 66 mph, four loud beeps went off.

This phone not only is smart, it’s damn smart. So smart, in fact, that it’s smartness annoyed the daylights out of me as we made our way through some gorgeous mountainous Arizona countryside.

I’ve noted already that I haven’t yet gotten acquainted with all the “apps” available for use on my cell phone. My wife, who keeps insisting she isn’t very tech-savvy, actually understates her expertise with these devices. She’s much better at finding various uses for the cell phone than I do.

I appreciated her finding the GPS in her cell phone. I do not appreciate the smart-alecky device reminding me with all those beeps that it’s watching me like a hawk.

 

 

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Cell phone becomes an addiction

Someone help me! I need an intervention!

This morning I drove the store to pick up a few items, and while I was walking across the parking lot for the front door, I reached for the place where I keep my cell phone on my belt.

It wasn’t there!

I froze for an instant. Then I remembered: “D’oh! It’s on the charger at my desk at home.”

So help me, I breathed an ever-so-imperceptible sigh of relief realizing that I knew where the gadget was at that moment.

Does this mean I’m officially a 21st-century guy? Does this mean I’ve become officially addicted to the damn device that drives me insane, but which I might be unable to function without?

I’ve written of this device before. I won’t plow old ground here.

My sons needle me constantly about my aversion to this technology. One of them posted something on Facebook recently posing a rhetorical question about whether his mother and I use still use a VCR recorder at home; he knew the answer — which is “yes.”

I’m not totally frightened of technology. Indeed, I’ve been through a lot of technological changes throughout my professional life. I started writing for newspapers in the mid-1970s using a manual typewriter and marking up text with blue pencils and Scotch-taping pieces of paper together. It’s a whole lot different now, but I managed to learn to adapt along the way.

Cell phone technology also is growing rapidly.

My first such phone was a tiny flip-top thing that drove me nuts. My wife had the same issue. We cursed the things constantly.

We’ve “graduated” to smart phones. I’ll concede that I don’t use all the “apps” that come with it — but I’m getting a bit more acquainted with them a little at a time.

I still detest cell phones. However, I realized today I cannot live without it.

Heaven help me!

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Tough to sever the land line

This conversation was overheard today at my part-time job.

Customer: Yes. I still have a home phone.

Cashier: Oh, really?

Customer: That’s right. My kids and grandkids don’t have a home phone, but I still have mine. I cannot get rid of it.

I related instantly with the lady and her seemingly mild embarrassment at “admitting” she actually still had a land line, a telephone that she plugged into the wall, a home telephone.

My wife and I have struggled for years with whether to cut our land line since cell phones became, well, such standard equipment for most folks.

We’ve decided to keep it.

Friends of mine have cut their land lines. Our sons operate exclusively with cell phones. They had no trouble cutting the line. They’re liberated 21st-century American males; one of them is married to an equally liberated modern female. Good for all of ’em.

For us, we’ll retain our land line for the foreseeable future.

Some of you might ask: Why?

The answer is complicated.

It’s kind of a life line of sorts. I keep hearing TV and radio commercials telling us cell phones make lousy communication devices for 9-1-1 emergency phone calls. Perhaps it’s because that message comes from a land line provider, yes? Still, I get the logic in persuading someone that a land line is a more efficient method of reporting a medical or law enforcement emergency.

Also, the land line and the phone book listing gives me a certain sense of belonging. That’s weird, I know. I am not entirely comfortable with people not knowing where to find us if they need to see us. I often hear friends say something like, “I’ve been thinking about you folks and wondering how you’re doing.” My answer? Well, we’re in the phone book; you still have a phone book, right? The older friends usually say “yes.” The younger ones? I know better than to ask, because I assume they don’t.

We don’t know when, or even if, we’ll surrender the land line.

The lady at work today spoke volumes to me — without ever knowing it — in that brief moment I eavesdropped on her conversation with the young cashier.

Yes, my wife and I do have cell phones. We use them regularly. I’m getting better — although not yet good — at using the various features on my hot-shot phone. Same with my wife.

But get rid of the land line? Not yet. Maybe not ever.

 

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Confiscate cell phones before giving thanks?

A conversation occurred this morning that has gotten my wheels to start spinning.

Some readers of this blog likely won’t endorse this idea, but a friend of ours told us of a possible plan to confiscate the cell phones of everyone who’s coming to her home for Thanksgiving dinner.

She’s planning to have a houseful over for a day of fellowship and food. So are we.

Should the fellowship include folks sitting throughout the house sending text messages to friends in other places? I think not.

Dare I set up a drop box or a wicker basket at the front door when everyone arrives for the Thanksgiving holiday? I’m not saying I’ll do so, but the idea does intrigue me.

Can I exercise my own self-control with my very own cellular telephone? My wife thinks I’m as guilty as the teenager who cannot put his or her device away.

As we were talking to our friend, my wife recalled our recent visit to Oklahoma City, where we attended a Friday night concert at a mega-church at the north end of the city. “It was a gospel concert,” my wife said to our friend, “so many of the folks there were our age — or older.” She noted how, during an intermission, she peered from the balcony where we were sitting and noticed “everyone” looking down at cell phones or texting devices. “You could tell because they were all lit up,” my wife said.

Is this the way to spend a Thanksgiving holiday with friends and family?

Probably not.

Will I demand that everyone turn in their cell phones when they arrive?

It’s highly doubtful. Heck, I’m not at all confident of being able to curb my own cell phone habit.

 

 

 

local news, State news

Now, about that statewide texting ban

Let’s call this election right now.

Four Price is going to win re-election Tuesday to a third term in the Texas House of Representatives from House District 87.

There. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s time to insist that the Amarillo Republican pick up where he and his colleagues left off in 2013 regarding a statewide ban on texting while driving motor vehicles.

Price has said he supports a ban. He’s voted for it twice. The 2011 Legislature — where Price served as a freshman — approved a bill banning texting while driving and sent it to Gov. Rick Perry’s desk. But the governor said it was too “intrusive,” or some such nonsense and vetoed it.

The 2013 Legislature, spooked by that veto two years earlier, didn’t get it approved.

Well, Gov. Perry is going to be gone in January. He’ll be polishing himself up and getting ready for another run for the presidency — unless he gets convicted of abuse of power back home in Texas.

The door is open once again for Price and his 149 House colleagues to do what they should have been able to do by now.

Ban the use of texting devices while motorists are driving their vehicles on our state’s highways.

Price is gathering some seniority in the House. He’s no stranger to the legislative process. His pal John Smithee, another Amarillo Republican, is one of the House’s senior members. He’s returning, too. The two of them can team up to strong-arm their colleagues to get this issue done.

Send the bill to the new governor’s desk and insist that he or she sign it into law.

It’s good for Texas.

 

 

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Walking and texting pose hazard

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This isn’t a flash to anyone, but I feel the need to share it anyway.

This morning my wife and I did a little grocery shopping at a store in southwest Amarillo. We were backing our car away from the parking stall when my wife noticed a young man walking behind us.

“He’s texting and walking, not even paying a bit of attention to what’s going on out here,” she said.

I grumbled. She rolled her eyes.

The young man walked past us into the store, never once looking up from the device he was using.

My question is this: Who’s liable — the driver or the non-attentive pedestrian — if there’s a car-pedestrian collision in a parking lot?

I totally get that individuals are addicted to their, um, telecommunications devices. I struggle a bit with that form of addiction myself, checking emails that roll into my cell phone. My wife is far from addicted. She’s a lot smarter about using her cell phone than I am — occasionally.

This yahoo, though, walking through the parking lot might have needed a nudge from a car to wake his sorry backside up and alert him to the hazards of walking through traffic while engrossed in whatever message he was sending or receiving.

It’s another distressing sign of the times.

Would I be totally wrong had I given this young man a slight bump with my car?

business news, local news

Cell phone courtesy course is in order

Cell phones. I love ’em and hate ’em at the same time.

What do I love about cell phones? A few things come to mind: I love being able to call my wife when I forget something I’m supposed to get while running errands; I love the Bluetooth feature in my Prius that allows me to talk and drive at the same time while not fiddling with the gadget; I love being able to place — or receive — an emergency phone call, which has happened in both instances.

OK, what do I hate about them? Watching individuals talk and drive at the same time. The No. 1 thing I hate about them is being forced to listen to someone’s conversation.

It’s that aspect of cell phones that brings to mind an idea I hadn’t thought of until just today. Cell phone merchants ought to conduct cell phone courtesy courses, teaching first-time users (if there are any of them left on Planet Earth) the do’s and don’ts of cell phone usage.

Here’s an example.

I was at work Tuesday at the car dealership that employs me part time. The waiting area in our service department was full of customers; maybe about 10 or 12 folks were sitting there waiting on vehicles they’d brought in for service.

About four of them were talking on cell phones. But one of them — a gentleman about 70 years of age — could be heard above everyone else. In fact, his was the only voice I heard for nearly an hour. He was talking loudly on his cell phone.

The woman sitting right next to him was talking on her cell phone. I didn’t hear a thing she said. She was being discreet.

Mr. Loudmouth? He was anything but discreet. He was bellowing into his phone for no apparent reason. He wasn’t hard of hearing. How do I know that? Because he and I spoke briefly and he had no difficulty hearing what I was saying to him in my normal conversational voice — which isn’t particularly loud.

But he just had to talk loudly into that gizmo.

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But, hey, I couldn’t help it. Neither could any of the other customers who had to listen to this guy’s constant blathering.

Cell phones have become a part of our society. However, I think I have an idea that would make it a less-intrusive element in our way of life. I am going to pitch it to one of the sales folks working at the cell phone store where I do business.

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Show us your warrant

What’s this? The Supreme Court of the United States has voted unanimously on a ruling that makes sense for Americans? Did hell freeze over or what?

The court ruled 9-to-zip that police need warrants to search people’s cell phones. They can’t just grab them and start poring through text messages, missed calls, voice mails and the other stuff that piles up in people’s cell phones.

What’s more, the ruling has implications to go far beyond the devices people pack on their hips, in their pockets or their purses. It could involve other “smart” devices such as I-pads and laptops.

As the New York Times reported: “Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr., writing for the court, was keenly alert to the central role that cellphones play in contemporary life. They are, he said, ‘such a pervasive and insistent part of daily life that the proverbial visitor from Mars might conclude they were an important feature of human anatomy.’”

Privacy advocates are happy. Heck, I’m happy about it, even though my own phone doesn’t have much in the way secret messages stashed on it.

A back story, here, is the unanimity aspect of the ruling. The court usually splits 5-4 or 6-3 — along liberal-conservative lines. This time all nine of ’em were on the same page.

The Digital Age keeps adding wrinkles that few of us ever imagined when this technology first became available. Even though we can access information much more readily these days, certain principles of privacy and constitutional protection must prevail.

The highest court in America has realized that truth.

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No such thing as 'private conversation'

An old axiom is even truer in today’s world.

It is that one should never say anything that he or she doesn’t want repeated.

Welcome to the 21st century, Donald Sterling.

The Los Angeles Clippers owner has been banned from the National Basketball Association for life. NBA Commissioner Adam Silver imposed the ban and fined Sterling $2.5 million because he went off on a disgusting, racist rant in what he thought was a private conversation with his, um, girlfriend.

The rant, which has become the talk of much of Planet Earth, has consigned Sterling to a most unwelcome role of pariah. He’ll likely have to sell his team. He is no longer able to participate in any team or league activities. He’s a goner.

What does this mean, though, in terms of privacy? It means that in this world of instant communication, where everyone has a camera or a listening device, one must take the greatest care to keep from saying something he or she doesn’t want known. He likely didn’t know he was being recorded and he surely didn’t believe his girlfriend would be the one to reveal the conversation, which I am certain is the case.

Sterling went off for about an hour, telling his girlfriend he doesn’t like her associating in public with African-Americans; he said he doesn’t want her bringing African-Americans to games involving his team. He made an absolutely disgusting spectacle of himself and in the process made a hero out of Commissioner Silver, who acted decisively — and correctly — in issuing the harshest sanction possible against the team owner.

Recent history is full of examples of public figures being “outed” by people with cameras or audio recorders. For example, Mitt Romney fell victim to a recording of his infamous “47 percent” comment about Americans who vote Democratic because they depend on government. Others have had their private behavior exposed for all the world to see. They have said things they’ve later regretted.

Donald Sterling provides the latest shining example of the price one pays for speaking from the depths of his soul, which in this case has been shown to be a dark place, indeed.

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Yes, cell phones do have their purpose

Most members of my family and even some of my friends know that I have a love-hate relationship with cell phones.

It’s mostly a hate relationship, I must confess, particularly when I hear people flapping their yaps on them in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear them talking about nothing of importance.

However …

I have discovered that cell phones have at least one redeeming quality. I discovered it today on the road back from Allen, where my wife and I had just helped our granddaughter Emma — perhaps you’ve heard me mention her on occasion — celebrate her first birthday.

We were driving home on U.S. 287, blazing through Quanah when a warning message flashed on the dashboard of our 2010 Toyota Prius. It said, “Oil Maintenance Required.”

My wife was at the wheel. Given that we’ve owned the vehicle only a few months and we haven’t acquainted ourselves fully with all the bells and whistles that it contains, we were uncertain about what we were supposed to do. Do we keep going? Do we stop and check the oil level?

We decided to stop in Childress, but before we did my wife said, “Why don’t you call the Toyota dealership and ask them what it means?” Why not, indeed? I work part-time at the dealership where we bought the car; I know the phone number.

We pulled into the parking lot, popped the hood on the car and I called the service department using my handy-dandy cell phone. “Hey, what do I do when the message flashes that tells me ‘oil maintenance’ must be done on the car?” I asked the service technician who answered the phone.

“It just means you’re due for an oil change or a tire rotation,” he told me, assuring me the car wasn’t going to croak in, say, Estelline, Memphis or Hedley on the way home.

There you have it, the perfect reason to own a cell phone.

You won’t catch me blabbing about nonsense in a crowded restaurant. I like using the device when I need to talk to a family member about an urgent matter — or when I need an answer about the vehicle that’s carrying my wife and me home.

I got it. I’m grateful for it.

I still don’t like the thing.