Hello. Goodbye. Hello, Siri. Our Intelligent Personal Assistant.

Our venture into the world of smartphones began about two weeks ago when my husband Mo and I finally decided to take the plunge. We’ve come to realize that we are slow to change in the area of technology; we were the last amongst friends to go from VCR to DVR, only succumbing to that change after the ear-piercing squeaking and grinding of the videocassettes kept us from hearing dialogue on our favorite shows. So after finally researching data, hot spots, tethering—and a bunch of other lingo we didn’t understand — we walked into our cellphone carrier ready for an upgrade. We knew one thing: we wanted iPhones.

We had both boys in tow as we started to talk new mobile plans and models. As the helpful sales associate pulled up our information and we pulled out our pink and green Pantechs, I—ever the tightwad—asked if there might be any trade-in value.

“I just entered your model number,” he informed me. “It says ‘recycle.'”

We chuckled.

“Does anybody even use these kinds of phones anymore?” I asked.

“The elderly,” he replied.

We sat around and were offered Red Vines as he and another guy transferred our contacts. He showed us some of the features on the new iPhones, including Siri, the Intelligent Personal Assistant who can send text and voice messages, research and answer pressing questions and help get directions. We were excited to bring her home.

My son spent the evening asking Siri ten times if the Mariners won. Same with the Miami Heat. We wondered who the Mariners played on August 5th. She told us. (Toronto).

Soon, however, I learned that this may not be a match made in heaven. My screen would go completely black after sitting in my purse. It seemed to freeze up when I tried to answer a text.

Each day something new. Each day something wrong.

I soon returned to the store and was shown how to push the power and home screen buttons to restore.

It worked. For an afternoon.

I then tried reset all settings.

It also worked. For an afternoon.

I finally went to Apple where someone at the Genius Bar reinstalled the software and firmware.

That didn’t even work for an afternoon.

I realized that my Apple was, in fact, a lemon: my smartphone was not even as reliable as my recycle-bound, popular-with-the-elderly Pantech.

I returned it to the store the next day and left with a brand-new one.

So far, so good.

As I left Target moments later, a bubble popped up asking me if Siri could help me with anything.

I hit “dismiss.”

Welcome back, Siri. Thanks for checking in, but I think I’m going to take this smartphone adventure in baby steps.

Let’s just stick to sports scores for now.


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