Welcome back to the House of Fun, y’all.
Much like your grandparents and your scary Uncle Stu with the plate in his head, I still use a flip phone. Unlike your grandparents and your scary Uncle Stu with the plate in his head, I am well aware of the alleged virtues of the iPhone or the Android or whatever piece of shit is popular with the kids these days and that is precisely why I am perfectly happy with my little uncomplicated device. It doesn’t get a lot of use because I find the act of speaking to people to be very overrated, but when it rings, I know what to do and when I have to make a call, I likewise know what to do. I can also text — slowly — ensuring that I keep up some level of contact with my sister and others who refuse to communicate with their mouths, but no matter how many times I try to tell them that I have to hunt and peck across a standard keypad making the act of saying “hello” an effort that can take the better part of an afternoon, they still insist on texting me questions that require much more than a yes or no response. If someone texts me a link, they can be rest assured I won’t ever see whatever it was they wanted me to see. They could, of course, have avoided this by e-mailing me that very same link, but no…it’s as if they stubbornly refuse to believe that someone they call a friend could possibly still choose to use a flip phone.
Over the years, I have purchased a flat screen TV, a computer, a stereo, a camera, a DVD player, an iPod and a laptop. I’m not going to try to estimate the combined cost of these high-end items, but suffice it to say, it was a lot. And all of those devices still do what they were intended to do. When I want to watch a show, I turn on the TV. If nothing good is on, I pop a movie into the DVD player. When I want to listen to music, the stereo and the iPod burst forth with sound at the touch of a button. If I want to communicate with someone who lives very far away but it’s too early or late to call said person, I fire up the PC or the laptop and shoot ’em an e-mail. All of my entertainment and communication needs are met. Yet, whenever someone decides (as they often do) that my refusal to compress my entire life into a little black rectangle is unacceptable, all they can say to sell me on the overpriced piece of shit is that “you can watch shows and take pictures and movies and download apps!” Uh huh. And I can do all those things now on the aforementioned devices for which I spent far too much cash to suddenly decide they are obsolete because they aren’t a single rectangular device.
I’ve also noticed that some of the biggest proponents of the portable rectangle seem to have no idea how to work the fucking thing. These people are amusing, but harmless. The real portable rectangle offenders are the ones who use it to avoid actual conversation. “So, Bill, how was the wedding?” “Oh, I’m so glad you asked — let me show you!” No. No, Bill, please don’t. Truth be told, I didn’t give a flying fuck how the wedding was in the first place, but it seemed polite to ask. Don’t make me regret politeness.
Today’s classic video comes straight from the Children’s Television Workshop. This is a perfect illustration of what goes on in my head whenever I’m forced to watch someone douching around with their portable rectangle. Enjoy: