Well, we went and did it.
The Trophy Wife hasn't traditionally been rough on phones, but her's developed a small crack in the casing some time ago, and has been getting a little crotchety lately. So on Thursday, when it didn't ring the first time I called her, and then just completely dropped the call the second time, we knew it was time to get a new one.
So they've spent the last two days pecking and swiping and learning all about their damned little gadgets with the adorable two-thumbed, slide-out keyboards and the touchscreens and all the various apps.
That phone is the Sanyo SCP 7050. It's five years old, and still going strong - how many people do you know with a 5-year-old cell phone who aren't cursing about it? Rubberized case, military specs for durability and waterproofing; you can drop this one on the pavement (and I have), run over it with a truck, drop it in water, and it still keeps working.
You know why they stopped making this phone? Because nobody was buying new ones to replace the ones they broke: to kill this bastard, you have to put a stake through its heart, and then burn the remains, soak them with holy water, and bury them at the crossroads at midnight. And even as you're doing that, it might just ring.
Christ, people don't seem to have a problem getting hold of me as it is. Why should I want to make it easier for them? Hell, most of the time, I don't even want to talk to the people who call me anyway. Why use would I have for a phone that can call people, email them, connect to Twitter, and find them on Facebook?
So there it is. My wife and son now have phones that are officially smarter than I am. And I don't have a problem with this.
At least I didn't have to crack out the instruction manual to figure out how to answer when somebody calls. ("Oh, you have to swipe the green phone icon sideways, not just tap it. OK!")