This is my iPhone. My wife took a picture of it, but not until after she placed it on some decorative tissue paper for your viewing pleasure.
On the way out the door, I go through a usual routine.
Grab keys (or frantically search the home).
Pat front pants pocket to make sure the smartphone is there (or frantically search the home again).
Hug kids and kiss wife (making sure to groan about going to work to write about the Utah Jazz louder than I chuckle about leaving her with 1 to 4 crazies under the age of 9).
A recent morning was no different. While leaving for an appointment 25 miles away, I grabbed (keys), patted (pocket), kissed (wife) and hugged (kids) the usual things.
A few miles down the road, I reached down to my jeans for my phone as I approached an intersection. And of course I did! There have been millions of reported cases of people dying from boredom at stoplights because they couldn’t check their smartphones for texts, tweets, emails, Facebook messages, to play Candy Crush and/or view Words with Friends updates. Sometimes people even stop at green lights just to get extra phone time. And let’s not even talk about the fiddling-with-your-phone-while-driving crisis, which has Driver’s Ed teachers across the country pleading with students to at least keep their eyeballs at 10 and 2.
Back to my problem: That was not an iPhone I felt while patting my pocket en route to the garage; it was a [Read more…]