I’m aware that my scribblings could well be interpreted as highlighting nothing but a blatant act of hypocrisy, but although just a matter of weeks have passed since I penned an “observant” note on my man’s fascination with his Blackberry, I have since joined the fleet of devoted addicts. Well, if you can’t beat em, join em, right?
To be honest, I needed a new phone, and the lure of the new Blackberry Curve 8900 proved too much to resist. Its cry was even louder than that of the iPhone, seeing as you can’t even harness most of its power whilst inside the UAE (so I’ve been told). I handed over my 1800 dhs - aware I could have searched for a better deal - and sighed a sigh of mixed emotion. I was nail-bitingly aware of the fact that, along with my credit card, I was handing over my freedom. Searching the depths of my soul I asked myself, did I REALLY need it, or was I simply answering a need for the boost in social status that comes with owning the latest high-tech gadget?
As soon as I was switched on however, I stopped searching my soul. I started searching Google instead. FROM MY PALM! Much less complicated. I loaded Facebook and I swear, I almost shed a tear. The moment I held my entire friendship circle in one hand was akin to the time I took my first step, tied a shoelace, ate an entire Feast lolly without dropping the chocolate skin on the floor. Joyous.
I’ll admit, right here on this page, that since I joined the Blackberry gang, I now understand my man’s devotion. I’m looking at the global ‘Berry love story in a brand new light. To some I guess, it would seem I’ve let myself go. Already, when I think of a Blackberry Crumble, it’s no longer a British oven-baked treat. It’s a technomanic’s meltdown in light of a failed 21st century gadget; the actions of a mortal so obsessed with his toy that when it dies, a part of him dies, too.
Today at 7.45, I reached for my alarm, which is also my Blackberry (awesome alarm sounds by the way, Nokia eat your heart out) and consequently found myself checking my emails – just three seconds after being shaken from my slumber. Well they were there, flashing on my screen. How could I ignore their calling?
My mind started reeling with the need to respond, before my head had even left the pillow. In the cab to work, I chatted with my friend ‘T’, undoubtedly from the snuggly comforts of her own duvet, somewhere in the UK. When I arrived at work, I’d already read my emails, which was sort of disappointing. So I had a coffee and did some work instead. Pretty soon however, the little red flash informed me I had three people expecting a response on Messenger. Dammit, I was kind of busy, but I didn’t want them to think I was ignoring them so I typed a quick response. They wrote back. I thought it rude not to reply. They wrote back. I thought it rude not to reply. They wrote back. I thought it rude not to reply. They wrote back. I thought it rude not to reply. They wrote back. I thought it rude not to reply…
An hour later I realized a few emails had been building up on the computer, right in front of me. I knew I’d have to reach slightly to the right, grab my mouse, minimize Word, move PowerPoint and flick aside the Guardian Online to read them, so I put my head back down and caught up on the Blackberry instead.
I suddenly thought to myself though, in a moment of panic, what if the Blackberry were to miss an email? I wouldn’t have checked Gmail because I’d come to trust the Blackberry, (my new beloved) but what if it screwed up and let me down? Best to check both every five minutes, just in case.
I know I’ve changed. But my man was right, I’ll never doubt him again. Once upon a time you know, dogs were a man’s best friend. But how people find the time to look after pets when their Blackberry’s are so demanding, (yet so providing!) is beyond me. I only hope I never have to find out. In 2009, I definitely know who my best friend is. (Well, actually, I have 564 on facebook, if you hold on a sec I’ll just double check…)
Posted: 11 June 2009
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