“I am not quitting; I am just not playing anymore!” - Anonymous
I got another cell phone this week. It’s a Samsung. I had an Apple iPhone. I now have a Samsung. They are not the same. In fact, they are not even remotely close to the same thing.
After six years I almost, kind of, sort of, not really but somewhat had gotten the hang of my old Apple phone. It was my work phone. I used it for almost everything under the sun including occasionally but rarely as a work phone. Then I no longer was working. I no longer had a company paid work phone.
I now had a Samsung Galaxy phone. I now officially hate Samsung more than anyone or anything else in the galaxy. To be totally honest there were times when I hated Apple more than Eve did in the Garden of Eden.
Modern phone technology today has advanced on a far more superior pace than that of my 65-year-old brain to keep up with it. I could specify three separate times this past week when I wanted so badly to fling this new Samsung phone as far as I used to be able to throw one.
It wouldn’t have helped. Like the first day on a new job or the first psychiatric evaluation question I haven’t felt this frustrated or crazy for a long, long time. I get irrationally angry. I have uttered long and incomprehensible sentences without any spoken punctuation and cuss words never strewn together in man’s recorded and written history.
Cussing is one of those things that I think helps people keep their sanity. I pity a man or woman that can’t cuss even in private. It’s the best pressure-relief valve in human existence. I understand the protocol and etiquette of people not wanting to speak cuss words in a public forum; but privately- come on!
Rachel Fresh, my fourth grade English teacher at Middle Road School, would have been so proud of me. Even when cursing uncontrollably and almost incoherently at my new Samsung cell phone this past week I never once used the word “ain’t!”
I think Samsung should be proud of the vernacular that it has inspired Lindon Dodd to loudly exclaim this week. After each of the big three Samsung phone blow-ups this past week I had such an overcoming urge to smoke a cigarette!
And of course, my son and my girlfriend Rhonda were witness to most of the blow ups. It is so sweet when they try to talk me down rationally as if it were possible for me to flip a switch like my mama once did a few times when I was shirtless in the front yard.
I was fine with a flip phone. If you carry a flip phone today, you are like a societal leper. My first flip phone made calls, took calls, I bought a limited number of minutes and was never happier with a telephone since the party line was no longer a thing. Yep- a party line. Kids under 40 ask your grandpa. Two long rings and a short one. I remember now how boring our own telephone calls were and how much fun it was listening to a neighbor’s conversation with my hand tightly covering the receiver.
I suppose my love-hate relationship with my new Samsung Galaxy cell phone will be a marriage made in Vegas. We will be together for a while, but I will never trust it.
To be honest I am even getting tired of hearing me utter those same old overused and tiresome curse words during a rant. I need to come up with some new ones.
I will be contacting a lot of people in the next few days to share with them my new cell phone number. It’s been three days. I kind of, sort of not really but somewhat, have memorized the new number. I know there are a lot of 9’s in it. A couple of 5’s. Two 6’s and a zero.
Now if I can just remember them in the proper %5E%$&, #$%, order to call me on my new Samsung cell phone.