It was an impressive run. Several weeks ago, my iPhone 4S remained uncased, unbent and unbroken. Hubris and the want for less cumbersome technology in my pocket drove my decision to abandon the armor that was my OtterBox. It was inevitable, then, that my iPhone’s demise would arrive with irony. Having survived the many boredom-induced lobs, flips and saturnalias, it would ultimately meet its screen-shattering end by dropping just a foot from the edge of the nightstand.
Having recently joined the ranks of the unemployed (surprisingly enough, I don’t get paid to do this), it was no longer fiscally feasible to replace an irreparable, outdated model with the latest sexy smartphone technology. Instead, I opted for a two-month plan with unlimited text but no Internet. It would be the prepaid and primeval Alcatel OneTouch that would serve as my capacity for connection. As I confided to the sales associate about my need for less, I began to notice my diminution in status. The Sprint Corporation associate’s simultaneous snickering and brandishing of her own smartphone made me very self-aware of my newly acquired status as an untouchable.
At a recent Halloween party, at which I masterfully and respectfully portrayed the late Bruce Lee, I obliviously answered the phone in front of a group of zombies and vampires. One by one, each meandered over to me with what I can only assume was an intentionally monstrous gait after I flipped my phone shut.
"Hey, you’re not a drug dealer are you?"
"No. I’m the great Hong Kong, American martial artist and instructor, action film actor, philosopher, filmmaker and founder of Jeet Kune Do: Bruce Lee."
"No, I mean I noticed your other cell phone. Do you know where to get drugs?"
Some poor joke about opium fell on politically correct ears craving party favors in lieu of light conversation, and the suitors detached to join other monsters, united in their mockery of my mobile device.
Once in the company of brunch-goers, I was asked to secure an Uber, as everyone else’s gorgeous phones had no battery power. You might imagine the embarrassment that followed when my cellphone was exposed. Unfortunately, I was not quick-witted enough to provide some excuse to cover my shame. I lost three friends that day.
For a while, I was a husk of a man. I would habitually check for Instagram and Snapchat notifications that never came. I grew jealous of those who could avoid the terror of human connection by attending to their handheld screens. The time it took me to T9 (remember that?) a few sentences the other day was particularly harrowing. Yet looking back, the tribulations brought on by my poverty are something to be grateful for, as they have presented me with a multitude of opportunities for personal betterment.
With regards to music, a break from the omnipotent and the omniscient smartphone-enabled streaming services has guided me back to the glory of the studio album. Not being able to rely on shuffling services like Pandora, I’ve found myself using CDs again. Restored are the stories of the album, a quality lost in the playlist-centric apps that have become so popular.
With respect to driving, I can now actually devote almost all of my attention to the car I’m handling and the road in front of me. As I am no longer inclined to Snapchat and drive, drastically reducing the chances of inadvertently committing vehicular manslaughter.
But perhaps my proudest example of personal growth incurred by being sans smartphone is my inability to cheat in Scrabble. Gone are the days where I’d sneakily Google a word of which I was unsure. No longer am I able to shamelessly pretend I knew the definition of muzjiks before the start of the game. I’ve decided my mind is my only tool now, and I believe this newfound desire to be honestly proficient in the game has had a positive ripple effect in other aspects of my life.
Winston Churchill once quipped, "An optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty." And in the face of the oppressive culture surrounding those who are smartphone-less, I’ve maintained optimism. Only three more weeks before a free upgrade and I can ditch this piece of shit for an iPhone 5.
Justin Ford is a Santa Fe College journalism junior. His column appears on Tuesdays.
