My technology needs and wants are pretty basic. I care nothing about having the latest gadgets and I don’t wish to be internet connected every minute of my life. My computer is indispensable, of course, and I have a cellphone so my kids can contact me when they need to, but I don’t have a smart phone, a Kindle, an iPad or even an iPod, and that’s cool with me.
My little cellphone has served me well for more than 5 years. Sure, the fact that it lacks a keyboard is annoying, though I burn lots of extra calories texting with only the standard numeric keypad, but the hassle of selecting and learning a new cellphone has been enough of a disincentive that I haven’t taken the plunge.
Now, the phone has begun freezing up when I try to text a message, a clear sign that the time has come to upgrade. When my husband learned this last night, his first reaction was to offer to tell me how to fix the phone I have. I declined, saying it really was time for me to have a phone with a keyboard. He then suggested I call AT&T and find out if I can get a free upgrade. I assured him that I would attempt to get a free phone, but if not, I would get the most economical option available. He was apparently concerned that I would come home with a diamond encrusted smart phone of some sort, along with a data plan that would require a second mortgage on our home.
It’s perplexing that my husband sometimes forgets just how low maintenance I am. You’d think it would be fresh in his mind because when he recently asked me what I wanted for Valentine’s Day, I said I wanted the burned out light bulbs in the lamp post by the driveway replaced so I don’t have to retrieve the newspaper in total darkness each morning. (Yes, he granted that wish.)
I’m not the kind of person who has a closet full of expensive shoes and designer handbags. I don’t run out to buy a few rolls of toilet paper, and accidently return home with a new Lexus. In reminding my husband of my low maintenance nature last night, I said, “I have underwear older than our children (who, by the way, are teens not toddlers).” To which my husband and daughter replied, in unison, “EEWWWW!”