Mar 21 2008
Cutting My Teeth
Last Christmas Santa helped me to boldly burst to the forefront of modern technology… circa 2003. I got a lovely little Plantronics bluetooth device designed to connect me to the world at large while running errands and sitting in traffic. My no-nonsense stance on driving and talking is such that I won’t even talk to friends while they’re driving unless they are using their hands-free thingy.
As a proponent of preach practicing, (with very few exceptions) I hold myself to the same standard. I also tend to lose small inanimate objects. Lipsticks… computer cables… pens… cell phone headsets. My last one was of the wired variety and went the way of the dodo two or three years ago.
After so many replacements I just decided that driving should be considered ‘me time’.
I sing along to the radio or my iPod. It’s great – no one has to hear when my attempts at figuring out the harmony fall a half step below the actual note. Granted, I would look a whole lot less crazy if I had an earpiece but that’s neither here nor there.
Being the luddite that I apparently have become, last week was the first time I used my new toy. (I thought about it at the 3 month point, but didn’t want to rush into anything.) Everything went well. The person with whom I was speaking could hear me. Score!
Here’s the tricky part – the lone on/off button would lead one to believe that there were two modes, namely on and off. There are actually four (count ‘em four) settings.
- On
- Off
- Inactive Stealth
- Social Butterfly
I’m okay with the first two. Those are standard. The last two… not so much.
Number three is problematic since chances are it’ll be tuckered out from silently partying in my purse by the time I need to use it.
Number four is problematic ’cause if your number is in my phone, chances are you will be getting a call from me. Normally this would be good news. I have been told on several occasions that I am an engaging person with whom to converse on the phone. It’s true: I am equal parts chatty and nosy inquisitive.
Off the bat, you’ll notice that I’m not talkative. I may even be downright rude.
More likely than not, you will hear me paying for a cab at 3AM or belting out a Pat Benatar ballad Jamiroquai song. For that, my dear friend, I am/will be truly sorry.
