By Carl Sampson
I’ve never been accused of being hip. Or trendy. Or cool — or anything else associated with modern society.
Even my mother claimed that when I was a teenager I was “17 going on 70.”
Well, that was before. I am now absolutely the hippest dude around. The chief techie at work laid a brand new iPhone on my desk the other day, and boy howdy, did that jump-start my “cool” genes.
Now I can call folks while heading for the jazz festival in Salem. Oh, wait, Salem doesn’t have a jazz festival, but I’m ready when it does.
I can email anyone I want, and I still get those cool spam emails from Barack and Michelle — Obama, of course.
I can send instant messages to my kids during school so they get their phones confiscated.
I can watch reruns of TV shows sitting in the backyard. Who needs birds singing and frogs croaking when you can have West Wing playing on your iPhone?
And I can check my bank account, so I can see exactly how broke I am at any minute of the day or night.
Man, being cool is, well, cool!
Since I got the iPhone, I find myself acting cooler, too. I don’t walk anymore, I’ve got glide in my stride. I don’t wait in line for popcorn at the movies anymore. I casually whip out my iPhone and check the score of the ballgame or answer a quick email. I sure don’t waste my time talking with the “little people” who don’t have iPhones.
Yep, this coolness thing has changed my life.
Even my kids look up to me these days. They have even taken time out from their busy schedules to help me set up all of the little do-dads and whatchamacallits on the phone, so I never miss an important meeting — if I ever have any.
Our youngest son, Mark, even showed me how to answer a phone call when I couldn’t figure out which button to push.
And when the phone does ring, it doesn’t make a bell sound or one of those other uncool sounds. It makes a sound called a “trill.” It must be a rare South American bird or something.
Not only did I get a phone, I got a fashion statement, too. I can get all kinds of covers and holders and protectors and coats and jackets that tell everyone that I’m am totally, awesomely cool just because of the fact that I have a — wait for it — iPhone. Dude.
There’s only one catch to having an iPhone. Other people around you also want one. It does no good to tell them that I got this one at work because I need to be in constant, 24-hour contact so I can put out any fires that happen to arise.
All they say is “that iPhone sure is cool,” and “Boy, that’s a neat phone you have there.”
I can see the handwriting on the wall. They’re going to need to have iPhones. By the time this scenario has played out, my “free” iPhone from work may become the most expensive one since Steve Jobs cooked up the first one.
Carl Sampson is a freelance editor and writer.
