A Little iPhone Essay
It seems like that’s like having a teeny tiny toddler in your pocket, deliberately, for the rest of y’all’s life! Clinging to the rivets on your jeans like miniature magnets, calling out to you at their whim, “Do something for me now! Answer me! Look at me!” No matter how much love is in your heart, friends, that is tough on jean pockets, and nerves.
You get distracted for one minute and it falls out, and you don’t know it. Or you pick it up, with tender loving care, lay it down to keep it safe, and you can’t remember where you left it and actually hope it will start crying out to you again so you can find it. Why would you do this on purpose? I’ve watched you spend half your waking hours keeping track of this little gadget.
I did that out of necessity with real tots for a lot of years, probably longer than most, and I enjoyed that; not having a moment to myself, even in the privacy of the bathroom, or the laundry room, where no one would ever go except me. But, I’m over it. And that’s a good thing, because I’m no longer good at it. I no longer need to be, or want to be accessible every moment.
Last week a dear friend in Atlanta promised to call me. We haven’t talked for a long time and I’m excited about the call. So, I started keeping my little pocket-size companion at the ready so I don’t miss her call.
I used to keep track of several teeny toddlers all at the same time. But now, not so much. I’ve lost this one little thing in the chair, in the grass. It slipped out of my pocket onto Lowe’s parking lot. Thank goodness they didn’t call over the intercom for anyone to come pick up their little lost companion at customer service where everyone glares at you and checks you off as a mother-of-the-year-award prospect. And then there’s the near misses in the bathroom when the jean pockets are momentarily upside down.
I’m surprised to discover how many times it does demand attention during the day. Calls from all over the world! I normally wouldn’t know this because I only look at it at the start of the morning, then plug it in on the TV console stand, and don’t look at it again until after Jeopardy!
My friend hasn’t called yet. I will probably not keep this little mess with me again tomorrow. I mean think of the danger for something so little to be out and about in this great wide world and in the garden. What if I mucked up the keyboard with my gardening gloves, how gross is that?
I don’t really know how others do this. But, since I don’t need to have someone clinging to me every moment of the day, why would I want to do this? I would love for you to come by. I’ll make tea and there might even be pumpkin bars. But if you want to talk to me on the phone call me at breakfast before I go to my studio to write or to the garden to do dirty stuff. If you don’t get up that early, then call me after Jeopardy! I won’t be hauling this little rascal around in my pocket trying to keep track of it every minute. Been there, done that. I’m retired, hands-free, and nothing in my jeans pocket! Thank you.