Tonight is not only the end of the era of Jeter in the Bronx. It is also the farewell night of my iPhone 4. If the 6 happens tomorrow as scheduled, the 4 will get its final ovation and set off into open pastures to take its leisure. All of which makes the more remarkable an event that just took place. The 4, God bless her, has been slow on her feet for many months -- call it 18 or so months. And so Ive grown accustomed to pressing on an app, setting the phone down while I do 2 or 3 other tasks around the house, and coming back to see if shes found the strength to retrieve the app yet. Or typing some text and watching with wistful love and a sense of loss as she stares back at me, a blank stare with just a hint of desperation in her eyes as if to say, I know youre asking me for something; and how I long for the days when I could handle such tasks with confidence. Did you say something? Oh, dont forget you wanted to tape the Presidential debate between Obama and Romney tonight! What?! 2014?! And I would try my very best to mask my pity; she could accept anything, I think, other than my pity. But tonights event is different, qualitatively different -- no mere matter of degree, but a tectonic shift. You see, I had a very trashy song on Spotify, the 4 hooked up to the Bose in the next room while I set about some kitchen tasks, unaware that Id left it on Repeat. The song finished... and started up again. My hands busy cooking. The song finishes again. And a third time. I began to wonder how long I could stand to cook before getting to the next room to change the tune. And then... the miracle... the final bow... the final flourish? Well never know for sure. You see, as I cooked away in the kitchen, the song ended for the 4th time, and I waited to hear the now hated opening notes, but there was only silence. Shes tiring, I thought. Or perhaps has forgotten what shed set out to do, just for the moment, as so often before. But I tell you the truth (why would I lie?), she pulled the plug on Spotify altogether. She just made the decision not to carry on with it. We will never really know whether she has just gotten that old and rusty, that incapable of carrying on as programmed to do or... OR!... Has it been staring me in the face all this time? How smart my smart phone really is. How deeply she has come to know my every thought and intention. Did she not hear the song that 4th time and share my horror? Did she not determine in her infinite SmartPhoniness that there was no way in the world I honestly wanted her to play the song again? I prefer to think of it this way. In fact, I know it is so. Goodnight, sweet Iphone 4. Tonight you have served the ultimate act of wisdom and sensitivity. You have served nobly all along the way, and I thank you, my dear. Now, sweet dreams to you, weary traveller.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 00:32:50 +0000
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