The notice that I’m due for a new cell phone is as exciting as a card to get our cat its annual rabies shot. I hate learning a new phone. Life’s too complicated, so I ignored the notice.
When I was given a $50 gift certificate to Verizon the week my phone started to die, I thought it had to be Divine Intervention.
I asked on Facebook and Twitter: Droid or Blackberry? Answers poured in.
After I tried the Blackberry and Droid, I saw the Devour. It seemed sturdier, and I liked the keyboard. The store was out of Devours, so I went home with news that I would be a new Devour user the next day.
When I returned home, I posted on Facebook that my next phone would be a Devour.
My 15-year-old daughter raced up the stairs, “No, Mom! You can’t! You have to have the Droid!”
She scolded me on my Facebook wall:
Mother! Please do not consider getting a Devour! The Droid is the Optimus Prime of the phone world. A more powerful camera, higher res and larger screen, and faster internet.
Also, consider the commercials. The Droid has this epic ad:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w83UQk…iuNZQ&feature=fvw
Therefore, I have made my argument on your phone, and shown Verizon that a Megan Fox commercial is not as effective as the add that uses the line “a stud missile duct-taped to a racehorse.”
I answered:
I think I just got phone pwned by my daughter. Guess who’s going phone shopping with me tomorrow.
There was a disturbance in the Force. I was the object of a Droid Pwn Intervention. By my own daughter, whom I once taught how to keyboard with correct hand position. On MY Facebook wall, when I started FB to monitor HER!
She shopped with me today, and I did get the Droid. When I got the phone, case, and cover, she took the parts and told me SHE would put it together because I might mess something up.
First, she showed me how to log into my social media. With my first Facebook update via Hootsuite, I was relieved.
Then my daughter played with sounds and settings. I thought of Yoda in Star Wars, “You must unlearn what you have learned” as I struggled to figure out the new settings.
Later, I realized something we forgot: “How do I answer this?” Social media’s a higher priority than a telephone.
My kids and I are shifting roles as they pull me out of Han Solo’s Millennium Falcon and into a TIE fighter.
I don’t know if I like my new ship. However, like Yoda, I can adapt.
As Yoda said, “Feel the force!”
