At noon yesterday, my wife left me. The love of my life, Kristine, walked out of my life.
In her hand, was a smartphone. I looked at her face, but saw only the top of her head, the face buried in the screen. I spoke at her for hours, her finger flicking up and down, up and down. She had to do this, then that, then that other thing. The flashlight was hard to find. The alarm clock, nonexistent.
See, we hadn't moved into the 21st century yet, stuck in the past, with phones that barely knew how to text, let alone lead you, GPS style, into a muddy, rutted, cow pasture.
Years ago, I even fought the idea of cell phones at all. I enjoyed those long car trips where nobody could reach you. Sure, you might have run your car into a ditch in the middle of nowhere. But at least you got to have a nice twenty mile stroll with your bride on a subzero Minnesota winter day. There was nothing like getting home and running to the answering machine for all the surprise messages left while you were gone - only to be greeted by a flashing red zero.
Yes, Kristine is gone.
As far as she is now concerned, I should have always been 4.8" by 2.5", with a flat, glass front, a shiny white back, and fully insured, with small monthly payments of $6.99. I even failed at navigation before the smartphone - the Galaxy S3. Now, it tells her where to go.
We were laying in bed last night and she decided to check the navigation. She put "home" into the search and some nice lady began to speak, "Your destination is on the left."
I was on the left side of the bed. I turned to her and said, "That's right baby. Your destination is on the left. Now take me."
I love her phone.
In her hand, was a smartphone. I looked at her face, but saw only the top of her head, the face buried in the screen. I spoke at her for hours, her finger flicking up and down, up and down. She had to do this, then that, then that other thing. The flashlight was hard to find. The alarm clock, nonexistent.
See, we hadn't moved into the 21st century yet, stuck in the past, with phones that barely knew how to text, let alone lead you, GPS style, into a muddy, rutted, cow pasture.
Years ago, I even fought the idea of cell phones at all. I enjoyed those long car trips where nobody could reach you. Sure, you might have run your car into a ditch in the middle of nowhere. But at least you got to have a nice twenty mile stroll with your bride on a subzero Minnesota winter day. There was nothing like getting home and running to the answering machine for all the surprise messages left while you were gone - only to be greeted by a flashing red zero.
Yes, Kristine is gone.
As far as she is now concerned, I should have always been 4.8" by 2.5", with a flat, glass front, a shiny white back, and fully insured, with small monthly payments of $6.99. I even failed at navigation before the smartphone - the Galaxy S3. Now, it tells her where to go.
We were laying in bed last night and she decided to check the navigation. She put "home" into the search and some nice lady began to speak, "Your destination is on the left."
I was on the left side of the bed. I turned to her and said, "That's right baby. Your destination is on the left. Now take me."
I love her phone.
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