Fruit Phones and the Other Kind

Recently I have found myself thinking about my childhood. Many people think about their childhoods as they look into the mirror and see what age does to a person. I am well aware my once brown hair is now white as January snow. White hair runs in my family. My mother told stories of finding her first white/gray hair in her late teen years. By thirty-five she stopped looking.

No, I’m not thinking about white hair. I’m thinking about cartoons, the cartoons of my childhood. I know exactly what brought me to my new pastime. I was bothered by two questions that were asked of me by my employers. One question was asked almost two years ago, the other last week.

After informing me that my employers would like to hire me, my future employer asked, “We will need to get you a phone. What kind of phone do you like, a fruit phone or the other kind?” My reply was quick, “I’ve never owned a fruit phone, I would prefer the other kind.”

Seems hard to believe but I have carried a cell phone since the mid-‘80’s, long before phones became smart. I was working for two forward-thinking brothers in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The brothers kept their company on the cutting edge of construction and purchased cell phones for their employees. I’ll admit it was a big deal at the time. It made my job somewhat easier to get information and make contact with the contractors.

Since that time, I have had every kind of cell phone. The cell phone in a suitcase, I had one. A phone mounted in my truck between the front seats. Yep, had one. That one was stolen out of my truck. Walkie-talkie phones, brick phones, flip phones, I’ve had them all.

I actually had two brick phones at the same time. One “brick” phone was supplied by my employers at the time and one gifted to me by my mother for Christmas. I give the credit to Mom because Dad had little or no interest in gifts. My “parents” gifted each of their sons exactly the same gift every Christmas. One year it was 19” color televisions.

Mom clearly knowing, I already owned a “brick” phone. It simply didn’t matter to her. It was important to her that all of her sons were treated the same. However, the phones were not really exactly the same. My brother’s phone's monthly bills were paid by the family business. Being the only non-employee of the family business, I was asked to pay my own monthly charges. I just gave the phone away.

Where was I? Oh yeah, cartoons.

A few weeks ago, my employers announced they were changing cellular carriers and we were getting new phones. Fruit phones! My heart stopped for a full minute and a half. I can’t work a fruit phone.

Regardless of what you tell me, fruit phones are not user-friendly, if you have been raised on the other kind.

Elaine has a fruit phone; the twins have fruit phones. Ivy and I have always had the other kind. I can’t even check texts on Elaine’s phone. Hey, a fella needs to know things.

Let’s talk about cartoons. Let’s talk about “The Flintstones” and then we will talk about “the Jetsons”.

I loved “The Flintstones”. “The Jetsons”, not so much. I wouldn’t be able to prove this but, it is possible that “The Flintstones” gave me my insatiable thirst for the study of history. “The Flintstones” provided the world an accurate portrayal of life in the United States before the arrival of all other human life. “The Flintstones” showed us prehistoric automobiles, how dinosaurs were domesticated for pets, the need for cats to sleep outside, not to mention that men need to gather at social clubs while women stay home and talk to neighbors. However, the lesson that is being overlooked by most people; is there is no need for fruit phones in today's world.

The intent of “The Jetsons was to provide a glimpse into the future. I guess I enjoyed the cartoon because I knew I had no chance to live in that world. Even as a child, I didn’t want to be stuck in traffic jams trying to get home from work, robots vacuuming our floors, and tiny little televisions phones. Scary, just plain scary. I didn’t think any of that would ever be possible. Here we are.

Well, I have a fruit phone now and I am not happy. Recently, I was carrying my fruit phone in the back pocket of my jean shorts. I thought I heard someone calling my name. Not Monner, my other name. I thought maybe it was coming from my fruit phone. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and realized it had morphed into a miniature television. There was my employer’s face on my phone. And then he asked the question that started this story. “Did you mean to Facetime me?” I thought about trying to just hang up but thought the better of it. I was staring at his face thinking, “This Facetime thing is making his nose look big.” I noticed there was a small television screen in the lower right-hand corner of my fruit phone. My picture was on that small screen. The screen was too small for me to tell how big my nose is/was. I finally replied, “The phone was in my pocket, I don’t know what happened.” My employer had that look of, “I was just talking to an idiot” as we hung up.

I have never used my other phone for Jetson stuff. I don’t use my phone as a credit card. I carry a wallet. I haven’t Crushed Candy with my phone, but I have been tempted to use it as a hammer. Jetsonites tell me you can add apps to your phone. I have never added apps to my phone. My kids have (reluctantly) added two apps to my other phone. Both of the apps provide weather forecasts. I will use the camera if I don’t have a “real” camera with me.

I am Fred Flintstone living in a George Jetson world, and having a fruit phone isn't helping.

I can no longer say I haven’t “Facetimed” anyone, however, I don’t know how I would do it again. So, for all you people that love to “Facetime”, it makes your noses look really big. Take that George Jetson lovers!

OK, I know the rules of these stories. We need to talk about yarn. Well, Your Daily Fiber's phone is not a fruit phone. Rest assured, your call will be answered by the other kind of phone. Buy yarn!

Our crazy lives!

Monner