Welcome to the 21st Century

I just did what I said I would never do, and that was get a Smart Phone -- i.e., a phone that was smarter than me.

We are now the proud possessors of twin versions (only diff is the color) of the iPhone 5c (hey, I know it's not the latest and greatest, but I'm an elderly shut-in on a fixed income here...gimme a break).

Talk about a learning curve. It's like going from a rotary dial phone to a Star Trek communicator. Or it seems more like going from two tin cans on a string to telepathy.

I'm not a knuckledragging Neanderthal, nor am I a neo-Luddite. But I am forced to admit now that I am ... apparently ... a technological moron.

And after I criticized Ted Cruz for the same thing. Tsk-tsk.

It's actually a bit embarrassing. We were always "early adapters" to new technology. Our first cell phones, back twenty-some years ago, were the size and weight of bricks -- they reminded me of WWII walkie-talkies. Over the years we upgraded them, and upgraded them again, until we were satisfied with the LG "Rumour" phones that featured a slide-out keyboard for easy typing. We kept those for a long time. Too long it would appear, since advances in technology swept past us like a rip tide.

They actually were adequate for us, for the several years that we had them, and probably still would be. But when She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed saw another dealer at the antique mall, where we have a space selling "collectibles" and other junk, snapping photos on her iPhone and immediately posting them to Etsy and Ebay, she got "phonis envy" and suddenly we HAD to have iPhones...

So we got them. I can't say enough good about our provider, Credo Mobile (the woman at customer support literally spent over an hour on the phone with us); the main problem wasn't with them, it was with me, the putative "electronix expert, yup-yup" in the house.

Like I always say, it's a time of "agonizing reappraisal"... But not really, since we are stuck being dragged, kicking and screaming, into the 21st Century. At least I don't have to feel technologically all 19th Century when I deal with my grandchildren. Who at least know, intuitively, how this shit works.

Maybe they can give me some "training"...