A sign

A sign

Monday, January 27, 2014

My Dad Got a New Phone

My dad decided that he wanted a phone that he could talk to.  My brother shows off his phone's ability to write and send a text via the user speaking to the phone. (My brother demonstrated this by saying to his phone "Tell Becky that she's ugly." Shortly after I received a text message...*) My dad was jealous. Obviously.

Let me just say that I do not have a smartphone.  I probably will never get a smartphone. I am both old at heart and have a lot of issues with phones that aren't really humorous.  I'm bad at navigating phones and have considered buying one of those models that are advertised in the back of National Geographic, with giant numbers and "easy to understand symbols." My dad would have realized my lack of phone motor skills (or interest) if he ever looked at my phone. It's fanciest feature is the "slide technology" that allows me to text using a full keyboard...I know, I'm a big deal.

He did not realize this.  EVERY conversation we had revolved around phones. Things like what model he should get, the size of each model, who has each current model, those various people's reviews...other things I'm sure, I just stopped listening.

So he gets a phone.
 He is very excited.

"Bridesmaids" comes on TV.
I am very excited.

He reads the manual (yup, the book that comes with the phone. He read it.) He learns about all sorts of features this phone has. Including...turning the TV off (we hate him), he then couldn't figure out how to turn it back on (more hate). So we yelled at him.  He retreated to the other room.

I guess he learned that the bluetooth headset he has can control the "speak to the phone feature." He starts looking for the remote to the T.V. in the other room (my parents have 2,000 TVs). His phone apparently does not have a "find remote" app. He comes out of the room with a full telemarketer style headset on, phone in hand, searching for the remote (clearly we are talking about a master of technology). Finally locating the correct remote (they are all exactly the same except for one has red tape to indicate "living room remote") he begins his training in the art of Smartphone Mastery.

We ignore him.

I assume he mastered it. He can call his contacts by simply saying their name, he can text, turn the TV on and off, pretty much anything that he could have done with a button, now he can do by pushing a button, and then using his voice. Amazing.

I thought that he mastered it.  I was wrong.  I learned that he was wrong by being woken up at 6:30am to the sound of my dad, downstairs, almost yelling:

"CALL RED BARN.
CAAALLLLL.
RREDDDDD .
BBAARRRNNNNNNNN.

CALL FARM?
CALLLL
RREDD BARRN!

CALLL HOMME!!!!"

I hate smart phones. And my dad.
* My brother is an asshole.


Note:  Apparently my dad called (attempted to call)  a different farm location that morning. I don't know which one. All I remember is yelling, him repeating himself with more confusion and frustration with each demand, and me- crying into my pillow.