I resent the smartphone. There, I said it. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I don’t care how many hateful comments that I get. I don’t care if a bunch of Iphone users come to my home and give me a Code Red like Full Metal Jacket. But a piece of advice brothers, you better stuff those socks with something other than soap because that won’t stop my resentment and almost hatred of smartphones.
I hate the smartphone like people hate long lines. I hate the smartphone like people hate other people that leave the top off of toothpaste. I love leaving the the top off the toothpaste. My day can’t start until I have made sure that I have rolled that toothpaste top in whiskers and soap. Iphone, Droid, R2D2, I hate them all. I don’t want one. Blackberry? I spit on it, ptooey.
Where does this hatred come from? Where does this anomosity against this great technological advancement come from? It makes life easier. It shows you where to go. You can take a picture and send it directly to facebook. You can watch old reruns of The Golden Girls and I challenge anyone to rip on the Golden Girls, those sweet old ladies. So why the hatred and anger?
Because my wife has one. And she is on it. All. The. Time.
This is why I hate it. Because it means you can work from anywhere at anytime. Sounds good at first, right? So does herion. Hey man, first hit’s free. Go to a magical place and experience mind alterntering hallucinations. Sure, who wouldn’t want that. But about a month into your bender you realize that you haven’t eaten in days and you are pretty sure you have soiled yourself. Now it doesn’t sound so good.
You can work anywhere at anytime. Keep that in mind.
You can work at the dinner table while your family is trying to have a conversation with you.
You can work at the Zoo while you missed the one and only time that the chimp actualy threw some poop. You are never going to see that again.
You can work on the toilet. Get that image stuck in your head.
You can work on Date Night with your husband that only wants to see Preditors with his wife because it’s a cool freaking movie.
You can work at any of those places and your employer knows it. Pretty soon, they expect it. They label it as things such as “Being a team player” or “Going that extra mile.” My question is, does that extra mile have to interfer with me watching Project Runway with my wife? C’mon, I can’t watch this show alone. I would never hear the end of it. My very reputatoin is at stake and the Iphone is jacking it up.
As a stay at home dad, I spend a lot of time around 4 year olds. We discuss the days events such as how many times can I tell my daughter to not hit her brother in the face and to please for the love of god put down the sock with soap in it, Daddy was only kidding. At the end of the day, I need some grown up time. I need to talk about issues, about current events, about anything that doesn’t involve me getting kicked in the junk by a 2 year old that thinks it’s funny when I scream.
Look, I know that we are all single income parents here. And as such, we need to protect that income. We need to support our wives so that they will be successful and get promotions so that we can afford a new video game. We need our wives to often work through the “all boys club” and fit in and show that they can do the job as well as anyone else. I get all that. So when I’m trying to watch the Bacholorete and she has to walk away for a while to answer an important email from a client, I respect that. I tell her to go get them tiger and give her a pat on the rump because we are married and it’s legally ok for me to do that. But it doesn’t mean that I have to like it.
My wife works hard. She stays late. She misses dinner. She gets out of the pool to check her email. She does everything that a good worker does that is trying to get ahead. And she loves her job, she loves what she does. And certaintly her Blackberry/Iphone/Droid is part of her toolkit to provide for this family. So we take it, we take every bit of it. Every interupted conversation, every TV show that is interupted and every dinner that is missed. We do this because we are SAHDS and sacrifice is part of the job.
But one day, many years from now, I’m going to find myself all alone in a room with the smartphone. It is going to be dark. The only sound will be some water dripping, echoing throughout the room. A broken light fixture will flicker on and off from time to time. And I will see that Droid sitting there unaware of what is coming it’s way. I will slowly close the door while I swing my sock with soap in it, around and around and around.