I do not own an Ipod, Ipad or smart phone. I own a dumb phone.
Along with 24/7 phone availability, I mothballed my sophisticated cell phone and expensive contract a couple of years ago. Then, contrary to my politics I went to Wal-Mart. For about fifty bucks I bought a TracFone. You can buy minutes, at 30 cents a minute and you pay either way for incoming or outgoing calls, basic service, no contracts on this one-way street.
The problem is the Fone has gremlins. It will go off in the middle of the night, louder than a smoke alarm chiming out that I’ve missed 58 text messages…and the Fone is not even set up for text messages. Or, the Fone will ring with wrong number after wrong number so many times I don’t answer it which defeats the purpose of a mobile phone.
To address these Fone inconsistencies means calling a toll free number and talking to someone in Honduras with an accent thick as his or her inexperience at working the phones and resolving Fone problems. The resulting two hour conversation brings no results. So, the Fone takes its place in my office drawer filled with similar phoniness in this cellular evolution.
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