"Honey, what 'thing' on my phone would talk to me as if I was a moron?"
This question, or some variable thereof, is one I've asked my husband many times. I keep finding stuff on my phone that I didn't know I had.
"Do you want to explain that?" he asks.
"I wish I could. There's this lady insisting that I turn left in _ mile, even when I'm standing in the kitchen And she's in my phone."
"Is your GPS application turned on?"
"If you are suggesting that I was making eyes at my phone, I swear I never meant to encourage it. In fact, it probably interpreted my scowl as an amorous appeal. Now she won't leave me alone. Is this what cyber-stalking means?"
"No, no, you just have to turn the application off."
That seemed easy enough. Looking at my phone, I said, "You are a bad application! In fact, you have warts, you smell bad, and you mother gave you a bath four times a day to try to wash the ugly off!"
"Give me the phone" My patient husband, once again, had to save me from my misbehaving phone.
Honestly, I only wanted one that I could use to make a phone call. This little beaut takes pictures, shows me where I am (in case I didn't know), gets my e-mail, and apparently, it can now tell me where to go. Now that I think about it, that could be a feature my husband installed on there when he was being particularly facetious.
He doesn't need this feature on his phone, of course, because he has me to tell him where to go.
There are a bazillion things on my phone I don't know how to use. I'm not stupid. I just have no time to learn them. If I had the time, there are games on there that sound like they could be a fun waste of it. One of them has something to do with birds getting even with a group of green pigs for stealing their eggs. The pigs allegedly want to fry the eggs, but with what side dish would they eat them? It would seem that these two adversarial animals should be on the same team against a breakfast-eating public. Strange things happen inside my phone.
Perhaps the lady that keeps telling me where to go should referee these two unlikely enemies; and maybe broker a peace treaty between them. It certainly would give her something to do besides boss me around.
I noticed, also, that my phone is equipped with everything one would need if one suddenly woke up in a strange place with a bad headache.
It would tell you the date, the time, and where you were. It wouldn't tell you who you were, if you couldn't remember, but it would give you a list of your friend's phone numbers, e-mail addresses and birthdays. All you would have to do is call one of them and ask them who you are. Imagine getting that call.
It also wouldn't tell you why you have a headache unless you took pictures at the club you visited the night before, or unless, before you blacked out, you had the intestinal fortitude to snap a picture of the truck that hit you.
Your phone couldn't tell you where you live, but if you turned the application on at any point, you may hear the calm, firm voice of a lady who says "turn left _ mile." She may not take you home, but at times like that, it's better to let someone else be in charge.
Laura is a syndicated columnist, author, & speaker. You can reach Laura at firstname.lastname@example.org Or visit her website