It’s a Blackberry, of all things. (Now I feel like a lawyer.)
It’s sleek and stylish and satisfyingly heavy, and now I can do things like
check my email compulsively (oh great) and, I suppose, download apps and so forth,
if I ever learn how to do that, which I don’t think I will, because you know,
life is too short to spend staring at a tiny little screen.
But I must confess: I love it. It’s heavy and solid in my
hand and mighty pretty. So there you go… I've resisted this whole tech thing as
much as I can—I mean, I have a computer, but I don’t fetishize it—but now the
game’s up. I’ve caved. I changed the wallpaper on my phone last night so now it’s
even cooler. Pretty soon I'll personalize my ringtone. Then... Game over.
Alas.
The other thing I got myself for Christmas, which I’m not
even a little ashamed of, is the Rolls-Royce of mp3 players, the uber-iPod, the
Cowan J3, 32 gigs, etc. It’s great. I’ll be able to store all the CDs I listen
to for PopMatters without having to, like, delete stuff every time I want to
add stuff. The sound is terrific and the covers look mighty pretty, and it’s
got this whole touchscreen thing so you can just scroll through the album
covers and pick which one you want to hear by tapping it. NO READING REQUIRED.
A moderately intelligent bunny rabbit could use this thing. Have I mentioned that I love
it? I actually look forward to loading the dishwasher and brushing my teeth
every night, because that’s when I get to listen to it. That’s how much I love
it. Should I be worried? Short answer: yes.
2 comments:
I feel somehow responsible for you having gone over to the smartphone dark side...but I love my weird little thing too. Sad...very, very sad...oh and Merry Christmas!
Yes I blame you for this. As for most things, actually. Merry Christmas right back!
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