Write About Now

It’s entertaining, actually, to see the looks.

“You don’t have cable?”

“You use a binder with paper to stay organized?”

“You don’t have an iPhone yet?”

The fact is, in many areas of life I am unapologetically low-tech.

This isn’t so I can claim self-righteous superiority, like those people who tell you they spent the evening re-reading Ulysses when you ask if they watched “The Bachelor.” (Although this is a bad example, because WHY would you be watching “The Bachelor?” And if you are, why are you admitting it to others?)

No, my reluctance to purchase some technology is not rooted in pride. I have a Mac, I don’t leave home without my iPod, and if I loved the Internet any more I’d have to marry it to avoid a scandal. But I’m not a big fan of gadgets, even the ones that supposedly improve my life.

My phone died this weekend, so I stopped by the Verizon store to get a new one—a cheap one, because I don’t spend a lot of money on cell phones. For one thing, I drop mine about once a week and it doesn’t hurt much to drop something I got for $29.99 with a two year contract. It would hurt to drop an iPhone.

But I haven’t refused the upgrades just because I’m a klutz; the main reason is my aforementioned love affair with all things online borders on addiction. If I had a Blackberry or iPhone I’d constantly be reading email or updating Twitter. I’d waste even more time than I already do following obscure links or watching video.  And I don’t want to be online every minute. I don’t want the constant temptation to check out of the here and now so I can check my email instead, or be one of those people who can’t sit through a movie (or conversation) without texting.

So I simply told Kevin the Verizon salesperson, who actually looked a little like the “Can you hear me now” guy, that I wanted a basic LG phone—preferably that schnazzy red one to his right.

He looked like I’d just suggested he eat his Bluetooth earpiece.

“You don’t want to download music? Or send email? Or edit video? Or find out the time in Belize?”

“No, just……make calls. Send texts, maybe. I guess that’s standard now.”

“Hmmm.”  He raised one eyebrow and pointed me to the three non-smart phones the store had to offer.

In the end, I left the store without buying anything—the red one was sold out (apparently I am not the only person in search of something basic) and Kevin gave me a new battery so my ancient phone works just fine. Because flirting is also low-tech.