May 152016

So I’m excited that I finally caught up to the rest of you and got a new smartphone.

Okay, I know most of you change smartphones like the New York Jets go through mediocre quarterbacks, but I had a loyal iPhone 4 for the past five years as it was enough “Most Amazing Device in the History of Humankind” for me. Like a mortally wounded antelope on the tech Serengeti, however, it was struggling to keep up with the newest and latest apps, operating systems, videos, porn, etc. It was done.

Which is kind of annoying—even though the basic electronics of the 4 worked perfectly (answered calls, allowed me to text, took pictures), in less than six years since it was introduced, it was essentially rendered useless by a combination of the world consuming electronic content like Mama June at an all-you-can-eat butter buffet, and the greed-driven mission of manufacturers to make tech obsolete quicker than  … well than Mama June at an all-you-can-eat butter buffet. (Keep your fingers inside the ride at all times!)

Of course, such rapid and fickle changes made me leery of investing big bucks in a new phone. I mean, I can’t match the wealth and disposable income of 1%ers like Senior Smoke, but then again, outside of a Winklevoss twin, who can? Still, it’s a bit of an investment for a man of modest means such as myself.

Luckily, there are about a jillion options, and I opted for an iPhone SE—which is totally unlike me as apparently this is the “gotta have it” toy du jour. The device has all the guts and power of the iPhone 6+ but with a smaller display … unless you’re “old school” like myself, in which case the SE is a step up! It’s more phone for “less” money, so to speak.

So even though I was a bit apprehensive going into the Apple Store (where the weakness of my tech fu is glaring) and then laying out that kind of cash (which isn’t easy for a happy miser like myself), I did it.

And then, I fell in love in about six seconds—ooh, soooooo shiny!

My precious!


(You don’t want to know how ridiculously long it took to get a decent iPhone selfie—suffice to say I need more hobbies)

I keep randomly staring at it like someone who just got a flawless diamond engagement ring, sort of torn between “Oh my gawd, it’s soooo beautiful” and “I don’t want to look away because it may do something amazing.” I almost want to make (more) friends to get more texts so I can play with it more. Almost.

And the freaking speed! To lightning from what, in retrospect, was like a rolling brick.

Don’t worry—I’m not going full Her on you. Well, mostly because while trying to get Siri to curse or answer offbeat questions, I realized that Apple has sucked out some of the fun. And it sounds nothing like ScarJo. Boo!

Actually, I was a little underwhelmed with the voice choice. I am starting with the British bird but I really want it to sound like this:

So hot.

So anyway, as cool as my new phone is, I realize that it has limitations.

In fact, it can NOT

  • get Salma Hayek to come to her senses and leave her billionaire husband for a guy who can barely afford a new iPhone.
  • find two U.S. presidential candidates who don’t make three quarters of the voting populace throw up in their mouths when actually picturing pulling a lever for either one.
  • make Tyler Perry funny.
  • bring Abe Vigoda, Prince, Alan Rickman, Garry Shandling, David Bowie, Jon Lovitz, Patty Duke or Michelle McNamara back from the dead.
  • teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.
  • break Kimmy Schmidt.
  • explain how some ignorant d-bag in North Carolina is going to determine the gender of a bathroom patron without violating their constitutional rights.
  • cook like my grandmother used to.
  • scrub the clan Kardashian from our collective conscious.
  • explain how Michael could just leave Kelly like that. (My parents are still in mourning in the morning.)
  • replace Charles Nelson Reilly on a rebooted version of “Match Game.” (Or in any way, really.)
  • clean the bathtub once a week.
  • rape the horses, ride off on the women or prune the hedges of many small villages.
  • make the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs.
  • do the impossible, and bring with it, unbridled joy, like this:

But hey, you never know … I’m not done pushing all the buttons.