I’m in my late twenties, and I just got a smartphone. I know, I know, I was met with incredulous stares from the professionals at AT&T, along with everyone else I knew for being quite “behind the times.” But alas, my non-smartphone naturally became obsolete, less functional, and decided to unfortunately bid me one final goodbye.
So why did I wait so long, anyway? Why did I wait until I basically had no choice but to take the iPhone plunge? Do I need to authorize a case study? Well, no, I don’t think it’s that serious, but psychologically speaking, I clearly had reservations about this technological advancement.
The answer is simplicity. That’s the crux of why I delayed this change every time I needed a new phone and decided to forego the smartphone upgrade and opt for the classic throwback, for an older model, for a phone that’s centered around calling and texting and nothing more. The simplicity of the non-smartphone is what I reveled in — the fact that I didn’t need to download various apps or have the Internet constantly at my fingertips was a relief. I wasn’t keen on all the stimulation, all the choices. It was “a bit much,” I’d relay. I wouldn’t say I was literally “‘overwhelmed,” but I was not seeking a phone that had every feature under the sun. I claimed that I would rather use the Internet on my laptop; I would rather keep technical devices separate.
Nowadays, everyone is moving fast. Everyone is on the go. We use hashtags and abbreviations and pictures online to sum up our lives. I see lists on Buzzfeed and short articles that are structured so that the reader can quickly scan for a summary. The market for the literary essay and the novel, for elongated prose, isn’t as fruitful as it once was (at least I don’t seem to think so). Everyone grabs their information and entertainment as quick as they come, whether it’s through social media glimpses, an app or an online game. (Of course, I’m generalizing right now, and of course, there’s probably a spectrum where some find more of a middle ground, myself included.)
I suppose I’m trying to hone in on a larger point, on a bigger picture. I suppose I’m trying to connect the dots between a societal trend and the way the smartphone seems to parallel alongside it, which is why I held onto my basic phone for years and years.
We all have our own personalities, our own pace, and I tend to move a bit slower; I tend to take my time and not have too many tasks to do at once. I’m a middle-of-the-road kind of girl. That’s just me. I fantasize about having a summer cottage off the coast of Maine, a few blocks away from the ocean or a bay. I would write, and I would breathe in the sea air and take in the quaint, idyllic charm.
And if push comes to shove, it’s not that I can’t juggle and be “on the go” if need be, but in my day to day, I would rather keep a simple pace if possible; it’s just less stressful that way, less chaotic.
Needless to say, I’m sure I will acclimate and bond with my new phone in my own fashion. (I must say, I am eager to explore all the emoji galore since I like adding some ‘flair’ to my text messages, and the beautiful camera is a plus since I didn’t even have a working camera prior.) So there it is. I can own a smartphone and still remain on middle ground. I don’t have to download every app, nor do I even have to browse the Internet, or succumb to its other perks.
I can utilize the phone in my own way. Perhaps I can find an emoji of Maine.