Hello Moto!

It’s the end of an era.

I could get colloquial and verbose on such an occasion, but frankly, the honoree deserves neither. A hero marching home from war deserves a parade. A beloved icon can expect some fanfare after a long and storied career. A king can be the center of grand gala so that the kingdom may show their gratitude. But no. None of that will happen in this instance.

My cell phone is being retired. Period.

That’s right. Despite whatever silly allegiance I pledged in this delirious March post. Now I’m not doing a 180 on my prior logic, when I stated that the level of service I require is “Marginally Functional.” I haven’t lost that minimal requirement. It’s just that old Kyocera Version 1.01 can’t hack it anymore. It’s time to lay this phone of three years to rest and join the rest of you in the world of flip-phones, picture-taking, and Styx ringtones. There’s just one problem.

I think my old phone is on to us.

Ever since I placed my order for its replacement last Monday, the Kyocera has been behaving worse that usual. It definitely has figured out that I’ve been out seeing other phones for the last few weeks, and furthermore, that I’ve made a commitment to another handset. As I have waited patiently for Motorola to make its grand arrival over the past week, Kyocera has made it clear that it’s going to go out with a blaze of glory.

Hell hath no fury like a scorned cellphone.

For most of last week, it was the same old stuff that made us grow far apart. When people would call me, the screen would glow blue (as it should) and be blank (as it shouldn’t). When I would call people, I had to emulate the Micro Machines guy and get everything I have to say out in the 3.5 minutes of talk time my battery would allow. Thus has become standard operating procedure, and thus, I thought nothing of it.

Once I confirmed that the new model would arrive this week, that’s when Kyocera flew off the handle. After all, in comparison the replacement is no ordinary model; ‘tis a supermodel. And this did not sit well. Not well at all.

This past weekend, I had to endure altogether system shutdown. The phone magically kept its energy at a level where it wasn’t high enough to, I don’t know, call and answer, but just enough to say “I’m going to make you regret your decision for the rest of my life.” And when I tried to up the juice in the battery, I might as well been trying to plug my phone into a flagpole. Nothing. Turns out the contacts in the charger have conveniently gone dead. Yeah. Coincidence I’m sure.

I’ve would have better luck calling people with my shoe.

Well, as I have sat here typing this, old friend, a certain somebody has shown up in my cube. And after I get through the activation protocol, which I expect to take all of four minutes, it will be System Shutdown for one last final time.

Well, it would be if the battery hadn’t been dead since Saturday.