Mobile Madness!

My new mobile phone arrived yesterday morning and, unfortunately, we're not bonding very well...

I didn't want to upgrade. Yes, I'm well aware of the social stigma and ridicule associated with mono ring tones, single colour displays and surface areas greater than 10 Woodbine but, at least I knew where I stood with my trusty old 3310. Unfortunately though, with her increasing years (ratio = 1 human year:28 mobile years), she started showing signs of dementia. Predictive text became wholly unpredictable; her battery displayed unmistakeable signs of alzheimer's and, in general, she became lethargic and slow to respond. A direct result of the constant textual abuse she's had to endure!

So, now I have this sparkly, slimline, state-of-the-art gizmo that's going to improve my world of communication beyond recognition; or so the Nokia marketing gnu's guru's would have me believe. It's fairly handsome, I'll concede to that, and it'll slip into my jeans pocket without making me look like I've been at the viagra again but, on the whole, I think it'll contribute to the further demise of my mental persona. The keypad is just too bloody small! I'm 6'3" and 220lbs with proportionately sized thumbs. How can the designers expect anyone with larger than average digits to easily navigate the plethora of menus on buttons of such miniscule proportions and close proximity? Perhaps I should consider cosmetic thumb surgery. I could have the end whittled down into a text friendly stylus!

So, what else does this technological nugget offer me? A multitude of pretty coloured, effeminate pictures and and a vast array of irritating, polyphonic ring-tones: Fantastic! The ability to email: Who would I want to email from my phone? Everyone I know, my mother excepted, has a mobile and can, therefore, receive text messages. The idea of composing anything longer than a quick sms on the aforementioned keypad is, to me, preposterous! Access to wap services: I suppose I can find out immediately, and from any location, that my lottery numbers have, yet again, failed to project me into the lap of luxury! Although, naturally, it'll cost more than the ticket itself did. All in all, it hasn't convinced me that it's a worthy replacement. Of course, I'll persevere, after all it's cost me money, hasn't it? I suppose my thumb will surprise me, in time, and reach a new level of dexterity but, in the short term, I just know it's going to cause me a consignment of angst and frustration that I could well do without. C'est la vie, my friends, c'est la vie.

There is one feature that I do like; the automatic key guard. I'm always forgetting to lock the keys after a call. On many occasions, I've stuffed it in my pocket, only to find out that my groin decided to make a call and use up all my credit! A while ago, a good friend of mine was going through a tough time with his marriage. One day, he phoned his wife on his mobile and then used a landline to call the office switchboard. At the time, he was having an emotional affair with the receptionist and, consequently, chatted to her at great length about his wifes incompetencies as a partner, mother and lover. When he arrived home, his bags were packed and he was immediately rendered homeless... Whilst talking to the receptionist, his mobile decided to execute 'last number redial' and his wife had listened to the entire conversation. Poor bastard! However, I'm pleased to say, he now reflects upon the episode in a humourous manner and wishes he'd faked the scenario years earlier!

Oh well, time to stop blogging and get out my phone manual and hiking boots. I've got a steep learning curve to climb. Good night.