Iphone irritants

Call me a Luddite.

I was fine with things the way they were.

Then I got an i-phone and found out what I was missing.

Ad nauseam.

I was working in the garden, readying it for planting when the phone in my pocket began to ring.

“Hey, the bass are biting,” my fishing partner said when I answered the call, “I just caught one.”

“Good for you,” I told him. “I’ve got to work.”

I’d just gotten the phone, a hand-me-down from my wife, who insisted I start carrying it, because, she said, I spend much of my time alone, and might need it in case of an emergency.

So it was in my pocket while I was hoeing weeds. If I fell and couldn’t get up, I would be able to play Words with Friends until they found me.

A few minutes later the phone rang again.

This time it was my friend’s wife.

“He caught another one,” she told me. “Oh! He’s got another one on already.”

“I’ve got to go,” I told her. “Thanks for the call.”

I stuck the phone back in my pocket and started hoeing so furiously I raised a cloud of dust.

It would have been easier to take if I’d heard the messages on voice mail in the house. I’d have been glad to hear my friend had caught some fish after the fact, but listening to him whoop and holler while he was in the act was difficult to handle.

The phone rang.

It was my friend’s wife. He was still catching fish. She just wanted to keep me up to date.

“Thanks for the calls,” I told her, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I really appreciate it.”

Then the phone rang again.

I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at the screen. It was from a different friend. So I answered it, but instead of a call it was a photo of fish, a limit of smallmouth he had caught from a Wyoming reservoir.

I suppose eventually I’ll embrace this new technology. I reluctantly made the switch from crank to power windows when I bought a new pickup. I spend too much time online shopping and on occasion I even rely on my GPS.

However, I have no need for on-the-water fishing reports. They make me twitch and squirm and have bad thoughts.

I was fine with things the way they were.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]