I don't own an I-Pod, I-Pad, or I-Phone. If I have apps on my ordinary cell phone, I don't know what they do. However, I'm beginning to miss what many people have shelled out dollars for: convenience. A common remark among friends like, "Wonder if XXX Restaurant is open Saturday night?" produces like a bolt of lightening a hand that whisks out an I-Phone, taps a few times and within seconds shows us a map, pertinent information, and the menu. The group decides to make a reservation and this I-Phoner hits a few more buttons and says satisfactorily, "Done. We have a table for ten at 8 p.m. Saturday night." Just like that. No phone calls or no flipping pages of the telephone directory.
One occasion I was talking with a friend who was recalling days of our teaching at a local high school. I said, "Remember that young senior who sang so well? She was the lead in all the musicals." And with I-Phone in hand, my friend had tapped the face a few times and come up with this graduate's latest album and her bio. Amazing!
You've had similar experiences with I-Phoners. Does their possession of this magic box entice you to purchase one? Does me. Businesses are joining ventures to put their companies readily available to the public via apps. Transactions conduct more easily via computers and cell phones. It's happening like a runaway roller coaster.
Where is the sweet voice that answers the phone? Where is the familiar disappearing to? What? I have to listen to a mechanical voice in the complaint department that refuses to let me speak? Technology is ruining social networking. Social, as in person-to-person. I predict that the future will have us meet each other via the phone. Imagine, our facing each other, carrying on a conversation with the bug in our ear, mumbling as we fumble with our packages, looking every where but directly at each other, afraid to converse naturally. Gads. . .