I recently purchased the new iPhone X. I mainly got it because my other iPhone wasn’t holding its charge, but in addition, the photography capabilities of the new iPhone X were something of a turn-on to me. So I ordered it and will pay an additional $15 per month for the rest of my life to pay for it. Whatever.
So now I am using the phone, and let’s just say, I am not a happy person.
I will lead into why with a quote from my grandmother upon acquiring her first push-button phone:
“I don’t like this. I don’t like that if I make a mistake, I can’t figure it out, and keep calling the wrong number. What was wrong with the rotary phone?”
I rolled my then-ten-year old eyes and patiently walked her through the process of just using the tip of her finger when pushing the numbers. And I thought to myself, ”Geez, she’s old.”
Well, now, I guess, it’s my turn.
The iPhone X’s lack of a home button is not only disconcerting, it’s stupid. I get that it took up screen space, but it was the mother ship of the phone. I’m now floundering in the high seas of maneuverability issues around apps, turning off my phone at the end of a call, and scrolling up to enter stuff, which is not as easy as it sounds; trust me. There is a whole host of other new things to learn that require reading instructions that didn’t even come with the phone—which really doesn’t matter because I never read them anyway. It’s actually an act of protest because I’m certain instructions are written by men who have no idea how to get from point A to point B with any sensibility. Don’t get me started down that road. Suffice it to say, instructions aren’t an option for me.
There is a fine young woman who works at my company, Blue Shoe, and she has crossed from her desk to mine in our open-air office numerous times to help me.
She gently told me to just ask for Siri, and she will answer me. I use the word “gently” here because, let’s face it: It’s really condescension with a hint of kindness because I control her paycheck. Or, at least, I used to do so when I could access my bank accounts from my phone, which ain’t so easy anymore.
Well, her Siri direction isn’t right. It’s a lie—a lie like a Sarah Huckabee lie. I have asked nicely, yelled not so nicely, and used words that don’t belong in my blog . . . and nothing. Nada. Siri has left me—most likely, for good. Well, screw her; I’ll figure things out for myself.
I use my phone’s ear buds because I don’t want to get brain cancer when I’m already struggling with Aspartame dementia from diet coke, which Trump has helped me give it up cold turkey because I have no desire to be like him in any way. He drinks as much DC as I used to drink, so I have him to thank for saving what was left of my brain. Anyway, because I’m on the phone a good chunk of the day, I keep my phone plugged in to the juicer. Well, guess what? You can do one or the other, but not both. Apple got rid of the plug for the ear phone and now it uses the same plug as the charger. Seriously? Don’t they pay their engineers billions of dollars? Maybe the engineer doesn’t ever talk on the phone because he’s too smart to speak dummy down english like the rest of us. I don’t know.
OK, now let me talk about this face-recognition feature. I set it up. I turned my face every which way from Sunday while the phone registered it. I’m telling you that if someone has an iPhone X and gets arrested, they can simply send law enforcement the images from face recognition, and not have to stand in front of those cameras that have to be the height of humiliation. Save the government money. That’s on my 2018 agenda.
But that’s not my main problem with “Face ID,” as Apple calls it. Here is the problem: If someone robs you, they have to take you with them when they take your phone or they won’t be able to do anything at all with it. Yep, you heard it here first. You can plead all you want, but your face is central to the success of their theft over the long haul, so you not only lose your phone, your family loses you, which in the case of my family these days, might be a welcome relief.
So, the bottom line is that I’m an old lady who is beginning to yearn for the days of the flip-top phone. I miss those good old times when my life wasn’t spent on apps and staring into my phone for recognition—recognition I used to receive from others when they felt grateful for something I’d done for them.