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Am I the Only One?

May 12, 2016

The inventor of the cell phone, Nicola Tesla, was cool. The inventor of the modern cell phone knows not what he has unleashed. The inventor of the modern user interface is a slave master. At least to me.

We have these cute little icons on our phone, and when a message or a notice is available, a number pops up in the corner.

Those numbers have power over me.  So does the blinking light saying, “One of those numbers has popped up like a gopher. KILL IT!”

It’s just a matter of time

I have to wipe those numbers off. I have to look. I am a slave to Samsung!

“Ignore them,” my wife says. Because she can. ALL her icons have numbers on them and her Facebook numbers are reaching triple-digits. It gives me the heebie-jeebies just to look at it. My fingers itch and oily sweat extrudes from my forehead. I’d reach for it and put those numbers to death, but then I’d have to open her private apps. I have no problem with this, but she does. She apparently likes to curate these numbers. And she doesn’t like oily sweat on her phone.

In my dreams, common objects have numbers on them. The fridge, the pantry, the dishwasher, anything that wants my attention.  Numbers floating in the air. Kitchenaid will probably see this and start doing it for real. Life would be cruel then.  And be fat(ter).

I’ve been known to scream at billiard balls. THOSE NUMBERS DON’T COME OFF!  You’d think I’d be better at sinking them.

It might be connected to my hatred of math.

Probably not.

When I watch, say, NCIS, where people ask Gibbs a question and he just walks off… I can’t do that. Height of rudeness. I answer questions, even dumb ones (and yes, there are dumb questions, and equally dumb answers).

You can look at that two ways. The nice way is that I care too much about people to be rude to them. The truthful way is I am probably desperate for relevance. You want my attention? Mine? Really? You like me? You really, really like me? OK, I’ll give it to you. Aren’t I wonderful?  If only I had a nun hat that let me fly…

The worst thing is when I’m in a meeting or at church and my phone starts blinking, informing me a number has appeared and must be killed. But I can’t. Not until the meeting ends. Unless it’s a web-cast meeting. Then I whip that phone out.

Really, am I the only one?

Oh, excuse me, my phone is shuddering with the burden of new numbers…

One Comment leave one →
  1. May 13, 2016 5:46 pm

    My dear Rob, This post left me in a bad place. I wanted to “like” it, but I didn’t want to cause you anguish. Now here I am leaving a comment, which I suppose will make you think that I like this post, which I do, but it also may give you some kind of validation, which we all need and don’t want anyone to know that we do. So, here is my comment. I apologize for making another number appear on your phone.

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