Sand and Sim Cards
So yesterday I was picnicing at Clayton Beach, south of Fairhaven. It was a cloud-less day. I went to Trader Joe's and bought hummus, crackers, sausage, havarti, carrots, deli mustard, and rosemary bread. I packed my way cool wicker picnic basket and brought a bottle of red wine. It was Father's Day yesterday and I cannot stand semi-holidays like this without family around. They are brutal for the spirit. So I decide to make the most of it.
I hiked down to the beach and set up in the perfect little nook in the sand. I got out the book I'm reading (Ethics, Dietrich Bonhoeffer) and began my day at the shore. A couple hours later I had fallen asleep in the glorious sun and the tide had come in. I woke up and realized I needed to pack up and make my way back because it would be difficult to get around the rocks with the tide in. I ended up having to climb over a bunch of rocks and in my haste and disoriented sun-soaked state, fell a couple of times. Beyond feeling like a bit of a loser, I got a sweet, scrapped knee and bruises up and down my leg. I hike quickly back to my car (its a bit of a jaunt) and realize that my phone is not there. I remember dropping my bag at one point and hearing something fall down but thought it was just my sunglasses which ended up being right by my bag. Turns out my blackberry took a dive.
Right now I don't know whats more annoying to me about losing my phone: the fact that I am the type of person who obviously went and won a better blackberry curve on ebay that night, or that I am actually really struggling without a phone.
Lemme break this down.
My vanity:
1. I could not get a crappy cheap phone as replacement because everytime I used it, I would literally be annoyed that I had even fallen on that Fathers Day back in June. Thus, prolonging my grievance.
2. I can rationalize that I will use the curve lots now that I have my real estate license cause you need one to open those key boxes right? or, something right?
3. I'm still trying to be cool. And the blackberry to me is the epicenter of cool. Its a great, legit, professional-use phone.
My reliance:
1. My phone is probably like a pocket best friend. Its not that I'm always on it, or that I always need to see who's trying to get in touch with me. But its this kindof security that I have with me, as an option, a go-to, a companion through all sorts of life situations.
2. Most of my closest connections are actually long-distance, therefore my phone is an essential part of feeling loved, known blah blah all of that connecting stuff.
3. My bro only talks to me over texts.
This big jumbled breakdown of my thoughts tonight regarding The Great Blackberry Incident is really just me wanting to break it down for myself and get it all out there, since I'm definitely not going to go through all these things with my friends. Its disconcerting really, longing for either 1. to return to the village and the simple life or 2. have my phone back in full swing. There is no "inbetween zone" anymore known as the 1980's and 1990's. Those decades have, for better or worse, catapulted us into a new era of connectedness highlighting enhanced, high speed gratification, wider geography between you and yours; and an anxiety over what to do with all this stimuli all around us.
Lesson learned: a picnic is a time to leave your cell phone at home.
I hiked down to the beach and set up in the perfect little nook in the sand. I got out the book I'm reading (Ethics, Dietrich Bonhoeffer) and began my day at the shore. A couple hours later I had fallen asleep in the glorious sun and the tide had come in. I woke up and realized I needed to pack up and make my way back because it would be difficult to get around the rocks with the tide in. I ended up having to climb over a bunch of rocks and in my haste and disoriented sun-soaked state, fell a couple of times. Beyond feeling like a bit of a loser, I got a sweet, scrapped knee and bruises up and down my leg. I hike quickly back to my car (its a bit of a jaunt) and realize that my phone is not there. I remember dropping my bag at one point and hearing something fall down but thought it was just my sunglasses which ended up being right by my bag. Turns out my blackberry took a dive.
Right now I don't know whats more annoying to me about losing my phone: the fact that I am the type of person who obviously went and won a better blackberry curve on ebay that night, or that I am actually really struggling without a phone.
Lemme break this down.
My vanity:
1. I could not get a crappy cheap phone as replacement because everytime I used it, I would literally be annoyed that I had even fallen on that Fathers Day back in June. Thus, prolonging my grievance.
2. I can rationalize that I will use the curve lots now that I have my real estate license cause you need one to open those key boxes right? or, something right?
3. I'm still trying to be cool. And the blackberry to me is the epicenter of cool. Its a great, legit, professional-use phone.
My reliance:
1. My phone is probably like a pocket best friend. Its not that I'm always on it, or that I always need to see who's trying to get in touch with me. But its this kindof security that I have with me, as an option, a go-to, a companion through all sorts of life situations.
2. Most of my closest connections are actually long-distance, therefore my phone is an essential part of feeling loved, known blah blah all of that connecting stuff.
3. My bro only talks to me over texts.
This big jumbled breakdown of my thoughts tonight regarding The Great Blackberry Incident is really just me wanting to break it down for myself and get it all out there, since I'm definitely not going to go through all these things with my friends. Its disconcerting really, longing for either 1. to return to the village and the simple life or 2. have my phone back in full swing. There is no "inbetween zone" anymore known as the 1980's and 1990's. Those decades have, for better or worse, catapulted us into a new era of connectedness highlighting enhanced, high speed gratification, wider geography between you and yours; and an anxiety over what to do with all this stimuli all around us.
Lesson learned: a picnic is a time to leave your cell phone at home.
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