By KATE HUNTER
I’ve swapped my iPhone for a mobile phone that makes calls and sends texts. That’s it.
At a pinch it’ll send an MMS, but my data plan is the most minimal you can buy so more than two would cost more than the handset is worth – which is practically nothing.
Even my kids are embarrassed when I use it in public – something I rarely do as it’s a flip style thing which is fiddly, and by the time I open it and press the right button the caller has usually hung up.
Why did I do such a thing? I’m the opposite of Amish. I have an iMac on my desk, a Macbook Air for my lap and an iPad for travel. I’ve been an Apple devotee since before they were it and a bit – in fact, I played a tiny role in the coolification of iProducts, working on the Apple advertising account in the late ’90s when lolly-coloured, bulbous-bummed iMacs were big news.
So it was hard to let my iPhone go. But it had to be done. I was too connected. I checked emails while waiting at the deli counter at Coles. I’d look at Twitter instead of chatting to the guy who makes my coffee. I’d check to see who was liking my latest Facebook update as I walked the dog. I was doing exactly what I was worried my children would do if I ever allowed them to have smartphones. Which I wouldn’t. I disapprove. Do as I say, not as I do, kids.
There were lots of reasons I decided to go cold turkey. Mostly though, it was because I want to be bored again. I miss having mental down time.
I used to enjoy looking at people around me and guessing what their names are. I miss reading old copies of New Idea at the doctors and thinking, ‘Oh! Nicole Kidman’s had another baby!’ then I realise it’s little Sunday, who must be just about ready to start school.
Like kids, I think adults need to be bored sometimes. My iPhone meant I was never bored. Or surprised. I knew everything as it happened and there was no point in sitting down to watch the news or ringing a friend to see how her holiday was. I’d seen it all on my phone while my girls were doing gymnastics.
I was desperate for good news, exciting news and every time I checked and it wasn’t there, I’d be a little disappointed. So I’d check more often. Pathetic, really.
Oddly, my iPhone – the great communication device of our time – meant I’d become a bad correspondent.
I’d check my emails while I was on an escalator and make a mental note to reply. Of course, I wouldn’t – I’d forget and I’d piss people off or worse – I’d hurt their feelings.