I’ve tried a Treo and a Blackberry, but they just didn’t take. They seemed to be too much work. But the iPhone is such a luscious toy that it begs you to use it, to slide your finger over it. And the new capabilities sitting in my pocket are taking some time to sink in.
Last week, Jann looked over and asked me if I knew of any Radio Shacks close by. I looked back with a puzzled look and said, “You have an iPhone right there in front of you!” Tap Google Maps, type in “Radio Shack Campbell CA” and bloop bloop bloop, little pins fly in showing the closest stores.
This weekend, I was at Target looking for a patio set that I liked hoping it was on clearance; it turns out that I was one day late and the patio furniture was gone. It didn’t occur to me until I got into the car to tap in “Target San Jose CA” and then tap the resulting phone numbers to call other stores in search of what I wanted. (None of them had it.)
This device — and by extension, other smartphones, I suppose — provides services you never knew you wanted or needed. I’ll never have to call 411 again.
I’m not used to it, and it will take some time to train myself to use it for any and every question I have when I’m away from the house. Or when I don’t want to fire up a computer.
I’ve tried a Treo and a Blackberry, but they just didn’t take. They seemed to be too much work. But the iPhone is such a luscious toy that it begs you to use it, to slide your finger over it. And the new capabilities sitting in my pocket are taking some time to sink in.
