Viewing entries tagged
texting

I don't know why you say hello I say goodbye

I’m very well connected.

Which is to say, I don’t have Obama’s Blackberry number or anything, but there are approximately 300 different ways to contact me at any time of the day or night, regardless of where I may be in the Universe. My Nexus One alone grants me vast connectivity super powers undreamt of by mortal man.

Here’s the thing …

I hate talking on the phone. HATE. IT. This isn’t a new thing for me. Practically since birth I have absolutely dreaded making “official” phone calls, and I have avoided lengthy conversations with all but my closest friends and family members.

This started off as a practical aversion. When phones were tethered to the wall by short, spiraled, constantly-tangled cords, I hated being chained to one spot all the time. So in our house, we had one of those un-Godly long (spiraled, tangled) cords that let you get from the kitchen to the sofa, tripping up anyone who dared walked behind you.

When we graduated to a cordless phone, I marveled at the ability to move around the house, with only a sudden burst of static to let me know when I had reached my boundaries. And as cordless phones improved, I was happy to go for longer and longer jaunts. I dreamt of the day when I could have a phone that let me be anywhere, just so I wouldn’t have to stay locked in place.

And now that dream has become an uber reality! I can be anywhere in the world and be on the phone! My roaming range has extended to nearly every corner of the Earth! I have achieved phone synergy! And I hate it.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a WRITER. I like to spew words onto a page and sit back as they do all the work of communicating for me. I can tappity-tappity on my keyboardy and then send my thoughts out into the universe, for all to absorb. If what I’m saying makes no sense, or if I read it and think, “I can say that better, and with fewer swear words directed at the Pope,” then I can change what I wrote before it does irreparable damage.

Not so with the phone! Every word out of my mouth is unfiltered and unedited. I’m constantly spewing bells I can’t unring.

Now that I can get voicemails instantly translated into e-mails and send 911 calls as text messages I really can’t see a need to use icky analog vocal comms anymore. I think I’ll boycott them, phase them out. From now on, it’s texting and e-mail and maybe that Facetime thing every now and then. It’s tweets and FB status updates (how come there’s no cutesy term for that?). LinkedIn, Google Buzz, blogging, YouTube, Vimeo, Skype … jeez, I hadn’t even realized how many ways I have to NOT talk to someone.

I’m leaving for Europe in six days. This is as good a time as any to experiment with ditching traditional phone service and sticking with all-digital, mostly text-based stuff. If I survive, I will write the entire harrowing tale. If not, I’ll tweet about it. #sendhelp


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Kevin Tumlinson is the author of numerous novels, novellas, and non-fiction books, and the host of the Wordslinger Podcast. Try three of his best books for free when you download his starter library at kevintumlinson.com/starterlibrary.
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Our generation's blinking 12:00

My 13-year-old niece got a cell phone. Worse than that, she got unlimited texting. Now I get to field messages about everything from "wat up" to pictures of pet frogs (yeah, I know, right?) to, oddly, pictures of her friends sleeping. That last one has me feeling creepy.

I'll say this for her, she took to texting right off. It was like she was born for it. And other than spelling jolts like "funney" or "yep, thats ture," she's quite articulate. We just have to work on her timing. Kara and I are getting text messages at four in the morning that are forwards of the "forward this to 15 people or something bad will happen" variety.

I didn't even know crap like that existed anywhere but e-mail. I am SO 2005.

Meanwhile, my nephew barely speaks to me. Unless I don a Halo mic, that is. He's pretty much glued to the WiiXboxStation. Ah, to be young again! I remember 72-hour Nintendo marathons. Somehow playing "Super Mario Bros" doesn't seem as mind-numbing as "Need for Speed." But what do I know?

I'm a tech head. I love the toys. I can hang with the kids. And yet ... they seem to have a lot more focuson it than I'm able to have. Kayela can happily text all day. Mathew can zone out to the point of forgetting to breathe while playing on the Xbox. I can't seem to finish this sen*

Guess that's what "Old Timer" will mean now. I'll be that guy who refers to things like "the Facebooks" or "i-Pards." So far I've managed to stay on that cutting edge, but I'm just waiting to see what new-fangled tech comes along to knock me off of my long-held perch.

Kind of makes me feel bad for making fun of my grandparents when they couldn't set the clock on the VCR.


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Tip in any amount you like, safely and securely via PayPal (no PayPal account requred). And thank you in advance for your generosity!


____________________________________________________________
Kevin Tumlinson is the author of numerous novels, novellas, and non-fiction books, and the host of the Wordslinger Podcast. Try three of his best books for free when you download his starter library at kevintumlinson.com/starterlibrary.
____________________________________________________________

BECOME A SLINGER

Get updates on new books, new posts, and new podcasts, plus be the first to hear about special offers and giveways. And pants jokes. Lots and lots of pants jokes.