Friday, February 11, 2011
You’ll please excuse me while I mourn the loss of my beloved cell phone. It had a pampered, yet short lifespan of one year. I know; it’s just a phone. What’s the big deal? Let me re-hash the tragic events which led to its untimely end.
My story begins just over a year ago, when I had just taken up playing the guitar. I was trying to relate everything I could to guitars and guitar playing. My thought process (right or wrong) was that if I immersed myself enough in the instrument, it would help me grow as a musician. I use the word “musician” loosely, because you and I both know that I will never really be a good player.
A cell phone carrier, that shall remain nameless, okay T-Mobile, had recently come out with a special edition phone that was branded with Fender – the guitar manufacturer. The phone excited me on a couple of levels: it was guitar related and it had a cool wood-like finish which made its appearance unique in relation to all other cell phones in the marketplace. The first limited edition release had sold out quickly. This disappointed me, but there was rumor that a second limited edition was going to be released. This, of course, angered the owners of the previous ‘limited edition’ but gave me hope that I might soon be able to own one. The rumor became a reality and I went to the local store to buy one.
I took such good care of my limited edition phone. I put a screen protector on the screen and encased the whole phone in a clear acrylic case. The body of the phone literally was not touched by human hands for almost an entire year.
But then it happened; I got a text message on a Saturday afternoon. It said that a new version of the Android software was ready to install. It asked me to press the button that said “install now.” I knew that the new version had more features and might allow me to do more with my phone. I took a deep breath and pushed the button. I could use the Forrest Gump analogy of the box of chocolates, but the more accurate analogy would be going in for exploratory surgery and not knowing what the true outcome might be until afterward. In my case, the prognosis was negative. The phone was non-responsive and then just extremely slow. I called customer care and was given one suggestion to try. I didn’t make matters any better. I asked whether I could re-install the previous version of the software. I was told that there was nothing else to do but replace the phone.
So now, I have a replacement phone (at no charge). It is admittedly a better phone than the one I had, but I don’t have any feelings for it. It looks like every other phone out there, and it is slightly bulkier than my Fender limited edition.
I guess this is progress. I guess that this is the way the world turns. Now I only have pictures of my old phone as a memory. I think I’d better practice the guitar a little more before someone decides to do a software upgrade on me.