Showing posts with label Mobile Phones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mobile Phones. Show all posts

Thursday, August 21, 2014

It Can Wait ... Can't it?


On our recent endlessly exhausting drive across New York, my teenage daughter and I noticed a number of signs on the thruway:

IT CAN WAIT
TEXT STOP 5 MILES

At first, I read it as "I.T. can wait." I.T. is the acronym for Information Technology, and in larger companies the I.T. department provides tech support. (Okay, I already said that the drive was endlessly exhausting, didn't I?) Of course, what they were referring to was "it," not "I.T." — "it" being that oh-so-urgent communication, practically burning a hole in your pocket, and demanding to be sent STAT.

Essentially, the new signs and the 100 or so new designated rest areas are the Empire State's concerted effort to curb texting and driving.

Texting and driving ranks high on the list of the stupidest, most self-destructive things we can do these days. It should have its own separate division of The Darwin Awards, which recognize individuals who have contributed to human evolution by self-selecting themselves out of the gene pool. In other words, they really die because they're really dumb.

Really funny, right?

Not really.

We all know not to text and drive. We've seen the deeply disturbing commercials warning us (in many cases with the most graphical depictions) of the consequences. As parents of new drivers, we anxiously (frantically) remind our teens to put away the phones when they're behind the wheel.

Nevertheless, when that little "ding" goes off, alerting you to an incoming — no doubt, mission-critical — text, it's very hard not to check and see what it is. My daughter has promised to keep her phone on "airplane mode" whenever she's driving. I trust her intention, but I also know she's human. So, I nag and nag and nag, and then sometimes I pray a little too.

It's become as dangerous as drinking and driving. Don't believe me?

In 2011, at least 23% of all auto collisions — 1.3 million of them — involved a cell phone.

A typical text requires the driver to take their eyes off the road for at least 5 seconds — if they're going 55 mph, that means driving the length of a football field without looking.

Teens are at greater risk than adults: 82% own cell phones; 52% admit to talking on those phones while driving; and 34% admit to texting.

Yet, they don't recognize the dangers: 77% are "somewhat confident" that they can text and drive; in fact, 55% say "it's easy."

Despite my elevated anxiety level, I'm not as concerned about my daughter making a mistake now. Her license is still fairly new and she isn't on "automatic pilot" yet. She doesn't drive too often or too far yet. And she still pays at least some attention to the rules we make. I worry more about the future, when driving is old hat. 

Because I understand, first hand, that the siren's song of the cell phone doesn't just lure teenagers.

Last week, I had a client meeting in a town about 45 minutes from my office. As per usual (go ahead and nod, fellow moms), I was running a touch later than I had hoped because I was trying to do too many things in too little time. As I pulled out and up the street, I realized that my cell phone was still charging next to my desk.

UGH!

It was tempting to turn around, but I wasn't sure I had the minutes to spare. So, I continued ... without it. That's right, I knowingly moved ahead and faced a 2-hour meeting plus a 45-minute drive each way, sans mobile device. OMG.

I can laugh about it now, but I felt like an amputee. What if someone needed me? What if I missed something? What if I actually arrived at the client's office early? 

I see it with my daughter and her friends. But, I see it in myself and my friends too. Texting means we have something to do every single solitary moment. 

But, that doesn't mean we're living in the moment. And, as I will continue to remind my daughter again and again, if you choose the wrong time to text, you may not be living at all.

If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com. 


Friday, May 9, 2014

Unlimited Data

A week ago, I attended a reception where I met a very successful, very driven, professional woman. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and a smart phone plus an iPad stacked in the other. As we talked, she bemoaned the fact that she never seems to be able to disconnect. Her colleagues and clients send her emails 24/7. And, if she doesn't immediately respond, they call to see if she's all right. For better or worse, this bright young thing has been so responsive for so long that she can never take a break.

Or, as my best friend's Nana Mimi would have said, "She made her bed."

I can't relate to this. Granted, there was a time when I was unfailingly conscientious too. But, at 52 with myriad middle-aged commitments, priorities and responsibilities ... um ... not so much anymore. Send me an email and I will certainly get back to you. But please, dearest, don't hold your breath.

To top it off, my new pal told me how much she hates her smart phone. "But, I can't switch providers," she shrugged defeatedly, "I'm grandfathered into unlimited data."

Now that, I can relate to.

When my now teenage daughter first got an iPhone, we shared a family plan that had all these complicated categories of calls and rollover minutes and a pool of shared data. It wasn't the most expensive plan we could get, but it certainly wasn't the cheapest. The guy at the phone store was courteous and helpful and tried to dumb it down for me ... 

May I stop here, please, and assure you that I am many things, but "dumb" isn't one of them. I'm happy to forward my high school — or university — transcript if you have your doubts. I run a business that actually involves complex marketing analytics (as well as lots of pretty pictures). Dumb, am not I.

I was, however, at least twice the guy's age, so he probably assumed I had already lost whatever cognitive abilities I had once had.

But, I digress.

We left the store with a plan in hand and all was well. Until it wasn't.

My daughter (with a September birthday and an overindulgent mother) was one of the earlier kids to get a smart phone. As more and more of her friends caught up, guess what happened to our data usage? It went up. And, guess what happened to our cell phone bill? It went up.

Through. The. Roof.

I called, frantic, and tried to get to the bottom of the sudden $100+ increase. The customer service rep offered to remove the overage (yes, they can do that!) if I changed plans. He recommended some options — none of which I understood. They all sounded good until the part when he'd say "... then if your daughter exceeds her data limit ..." 

"Just make it go away," I told him.

"Well," he hesitated, "You could upgrade to unlimited data, but it might not be the most cost-effective ..."

I interrupted him. "Just make it go away. Please." And he did.

The bottom line is that we pay a fairly high monthly bill. It's always the same (within about 50 cents, due to variable taxes, which I will never understand). It's predictable. I don't have to check line items of mysterious charges. Or nag my daughter about how much she's texting and what it's costing.

I have nothing against moms who choose to go another direction. In fact, I admire them. But right now, I have neither the bandwidth, nor the patience, to deal with à la carte mobile phone charges. I want the all-you-can-eat buffet. I want the one-size-fits-all. I want to set-it-and-forget-it.

Alas, my carrier has discontinued unlimited data options. We, however, like my harried new acquaintance, are grandfathered in.

Hallelujah!

Changing plans is absolutely not in my plans.

If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.