A little over a year ago, I took some time to extol the virtues of low-tech communications. With a more simple device, I argued, it’s easier to have it do a few things well instead of many things poorly. I suggested that the health risks to advanced technology giving off more radiation weren’t worth the ability to look at Amazon.com during a traffic jam. No, it was better for me to have a phone that simply made calls and texted and took grainy photos. And yet, here I am now, with a smartphone of my own. What happened?
Basically, I bought into the hype.
It started innocently enough with the purchase of an iPod Touch, or “Smartphone Training Wheels.” I liked the multi-functional aspects of the device, and found myself using it more and more, despite the limitations of a wifi-only connection. I was using it to map routes, find new places in the city, organize my notes, and do dozens of other things that I had previously restricted to a computer. The freedom of a portable device made life a lot easier.
As the months went on, more and more of my friends picked up iPhones, Blackberries and Android devices. Gradually, I became cut off from the conversations about new apps and social connections that peppered group discussions. While I still have no interest in Foursquare or Instagram or that weird brostache thing, it became harder and harder to stay out of the loop. By staying several years behind new technological developments, I was taking a step back from social involvement, too.
But what really clenched it for me was moving to my new place. Being only vaguely familiar with the area, I made a lot of wrong turns and found myself lost on a regular basis. I somehow managed to turn a 5-minute drive to meet up with friends for dinner into a 30-minute survival-horror epic that ended with me being the last to arrive. Having a device with a built-in geo-locational search and GPS began to seem like a necessity.
So one fateful Saturday, I went to a storefront for my wireless service provider and got an upgrade. While it’s taken some getting used to having a larger mobile device in my pocket, it’s nice to know that I can communicate with friends on several levels, find my way around, or just play a silly game at a moment’s notice. And it turns out that the whole health concern thing might not be such a big deal.




When I was six years old, I had my first taste of the future. It came in a beige, boxy, loud hulking machine that sat in a room with its siblings. As I pressed a button on its back, it hummed to life, a bright flash appearing before my eyes. Moments later, it righted itself and together, we entered a new world. I left my corporeal self behind and traveled to the past as someone else.








