Recent family
miscommunications have brought home to me the challenges I face when using my mobile
phone. “I called you, use your phone!” is becoming a familiar refrain to me,
while I cling to the old trusted methods of setting clear arrangements and
sticking to them.
It rarely occurs to me to
worry about such things, and I do adhere to the old-fashioned view that “I keep
my mobile phone for emergencies,” usually quite comfortably. I work from home
and am so often here that I still rely on a land-line.
I have contemplated ditching my old-fashioned landline – as I guess from the thin-ness of the current phone book that many people must already have done – and simply using my mobile. It’s tempting. I would probably save money and would not have so many nuisance calls.
But… I discover that it nearly impossible to use my mobile unless I am actually sitting down and have a few uninterrupted minutes to send a text or to phone someone.
The standard image of a mobile phone user is of a commuter with a wheelie case in one hand and their mobile in the other, raptly focussed on texting or conversation while walking sturdily to catch trains or the check-in desk in time. It is that kind of real-time, urgent practicality that escapes me and which, I suspect, is at the root of my reluctance to embrace that mode of being: it requires dexterity I shall never master. Set in my ways as I am – and with big, flattened fingers that refuse to move quickly – that level of multi-tasking is, I suspect, beyond me. I need to be careful when moving around, not distracted by calls and trying to type quickly.
So sorry, folks, I will be keeping a mobile for emergency use only. And I finally recognise that my land-line is not so much a luxury as I previously assumed.
February 21, 2020
Using my mobile phone
Fran Macilvey cerebral palsy, Fran's School of Hard Knocks 0 Comments
Using my mobile phone
Recent family miscommunications have brought home to me the challenges I face when using my mobile phone. “I called you, use your phone!” is becoming a familiar refrain to me, while I cling to the old trusted methods of setting clear arrangements and sticking to them.
It rarely occurs to me to worry about such things, and I do adhere to the old-fashioned view that “I keep my mobile phone for emergencies,” usually quite comfortably. I work from home and am so often here that I still rely on a land-line.
I have contemplated ditching my old-fashioned landline – as I guess from the thin-ness of the current phone book that many people must already have done – and simply using my mobile. It’s tempting. I would probably save money and would not have so many nuisance calls.
But… I discover that it nearly impossible to use my mobile unless I am actually sitting down and have a few uninterrupted minutes to send a text or to phone someone.
The standard image of a mobile phone user is of a commuter with a wheelie case in one hand and their mobile in the other, raptly focussed on texting or conversation while walking sturdily to catch trains or the check-in desk in time. It is that kind of real-time, urgent practicality that escapes me and which, I suspect, is at the root of my reluctance to embrace that mode of being: it requires dexterity I shall never master. Set in my ways as I am – and with big, flattened fingers that refuse to move quickly – that level of multi-tasking is, I suspect, beyond me. I need to be careful when moving around, not distracted by calls and trying to type quickly.
So sorry, folks, I will be keeping a mobile for emergency use only. And I finally recognise that my land-line is not so much a luxury as I previously assumed.
Thanks for listening.
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