Requiem for a Phone

Today I bid a tearful farewell to my beloved Treo 755p. We had such a short time together, just a few months. I’m really going to miss her.

If you’ve been wondering why I haven’t posted in several days, it’s partly to do with the death of my Treo – which boasts phone, camera, calculator, dayplanner, email, web browser, contact manager, Google mapping feautures and lockbox software – in other words, my life.

It went wonky on Friday evening, returned to life briefly on Saturday and died completely late Saturday evening. I spent much of Sunday in my local Verizon Wireless store and on the phone to tech support, trying to revive her. By Sunday evening my poor Treo had deteriorated to the point where the only working button was the ON power button (but not OFF), the ENTER button and the incoming call feature. On the other bright side, I do have insurance on the phone. So they’re shipping me a new one today.

Also on the bright side, the Verizon service guy from my local store wants to buy a condo or townhouse. He asked me to ballpark the monthly mortgage payment on a purchase price of $170,000. I reached for my holstered phone to run a few numbers on the calculator. My holster was empty and the Verizon guy was holding my broken baby, fiddling with it and pushing buttons while it squeaked and beeped forlornly.

This left me feeling literally (and momentarily) panicky. I had that sinking feeling I get when I think I’ve forgotten my car keys, or left the stove on. I also had a microsecond’s burst of feeling maternal and protective, like “hey don’t hurt my baby!”  Which is of course absurd, but also illustrates the point – I’ve become completely dependent on my PDA and feel lost and exposed without it.

I wonder if this is how gentlemen in the 16th & 17th centuries felt when made to remove their swords? Or how modern day military personnel feel when back in civilian life, walking around without a gun on their hip?