Somebody's Mother on Crackberry

As most people are discovering, cyberspace may now be entered in a variety of ways: by cable, through phone lines, by satellite and now by the wireless telephone network.  By making the Internet accessible wherever you go, through your iPhone or your Blackberry, someone can make more money out of you and you are almost never alone.  You can become addicted to perpetual accessibility.

My cell phone contract was about to end, and did I weigh out the options?  Yes, I did.  Did I opt for a pay-as-you-go plan, since five days a week I am at work and never pick up my cell phone?  Was I prudent and thrifty?  No, I was not.

It started out with my love for my birthday present, the iPod Touch.  If I loved the iPod so much, wouldn’t I love an iPhone even more?  If I was a crazy spendthrift, that might be the end of the story, but I knew that even I, Apple gadget-lover that I am, could not justify buying the data plan that would come with the iPhone.  Indeed, if I was a true addict, I would have gone out, paid a few hundred dollars for an iPhone with the lowest amount of gigs, marched into the Telus office and started negotiating.  My other option would have been to get an iPhone for $100.00 then buy the $50.00 a month phone and data plan, which would have finally cost me, with taxes, about $67.00 a month.

Ah, the salesman saw me coming.  He said you’ll be paying close to $70.00 a month for your phone, and I know that I can’t justify paying that kind of monthly price for what is really and mostly…a toy.  Yes, cell phones are practical in emergencies and when you’re on the road, but gadget babies like me want and crave the gizmos, what they call apps, but what you and I would call toys.

            

When he saw that I had accepted that the iPhone was not to be, he soared in like an eagle after its prey.  He offered me a Blackberry for no charge, plus unlimited usage of Facebook, MySpace, MSN and Blackberry Messenger for $40.00 a month and he threw in caller ID and he threw in unlimited calls and texts to five numbers…and this was how, I, like many before me, acquired a Crackberry!  One of my good friends calls it a Crackberry of course, because it’s as addictive crack cocaine.

           

Yesterday, I spent hours setting up my ring tones so that there would be a different bell or whistle for each type of message. I know all too well that this activity was a waste of my time as I usually put my phone on vibrate so as not to annoy others, but as I said before, it’s a new toy, gotta play!

Once my children discovered my Blackberry pin number -this is like a phone number that only Blackberry users can use to send messages – they began to text me all evening with tips on how to use it, and then, with updates on where they were and what they were doing.  I was actually texting back and forth with them while they were carrying on conversations with friends.

 I find this a frightening prospect: will I become one of those people who always has my Crackberry in the palm of my hand?  Will I never give family, friends, and acquaintances my undivided attention because there is always someone messaging me, always a new notification on Facebook letting me know that someone has found a kitten while playing Farmville a Facebook game?  Will I turn into a rude middle-aged copy of a techno-addicted teen who can’t let her Crackberry go?

I hope and pray not.  Right now, the pretty new Crackberry is turned off so that I do not give into temptation and see what the latest post on Facebook is.  If I were a really mature person, I would have opted for a mature plan which would have given me access to my email, my grownup email, but what’s the point?  Most of my emails are Facebook notifications anyway.  Oh, well, at least the next time I get a flat tire and call my husband for help, I can give him a feeble justification for having a cell phone, a pretty red cell phone with a pretty screen and access to Facebook.

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