Tag Archive | Mobile phone

Me, Technolgy Inclined? Maybe So.

Technology blows me away.

As I am ripping music on to my laptop I am begin embracing that I am able to add this music to devices. My new phone is a device.

Who knew?

I have a new phone.  And I now also have a new way to play music and this fills my heart with song.

I recently bought a smart phone. It is an Android I am told, which really means little to me. But I can do so much more from it that I am astounded. I have even used it to record thoughts I have had regarding this post. All I was looking for was access to the Internet.  I thought the access I was acquiring would be used only in times when my seemingly fickle Internet Provider has me offline.

Oh thee of little knowledge.

I am astonished to find I am using it for much more and I still have barely touched the surface of what it can do.

This inspired me to think about my relationship with electronics.  Mine began like no doubt most of my brother & sister Baby boomers  began, with music. Even before my family had a television we had a radio, and we had a phonograph.  Before stereo there was monograph. This is what I spent my time off from chores & school doing. Listening to music. Any thing that had a melody I was there. I became addicted to radio’s and the knowledge I could obtain about the music and artists. My love affair for recorded music and all its trivia had begun.

My first personal experience with electronics was playing a small little square record player that I could close up like an over night case. I took it with me everywhere I went.  Much like the one below:  I also had a 45 rpm record case that I still have somewhere stored away in a  box with my 45 collection.

My First Electronic

From that point on I was addicted to anything that I could play/listen to music on. My list of electronics in my life experience has included everything from a transistor radio with earphones that I would try to sneak to the dinner table, to amplifiers, speakers, mixing boards,  reel to reel tape recorder, 8-track, cassette player, along with numerous stereo’s.  If it cannot be live music than it shall be recorded. I listen to music almost 24/7  with no exaggeration, I even fall asleep to music.

I was blessed to have grown up in a family who loved and lived music. Both live & recorded. My parents were both musicians, and my two brothers play. I am also blessed that my older brother who is 8 years my senior loved his generation of music, which I adopted as my own first independent genre of music from my parents. Then as a teen with a vast library already collected of recorded music of vinyl 33 rpm albums my brother gifted me his  Pioneer Stereo which at the time anyone with any music sensibilities coveted.

I, as a teen coveted this stereo of my brother’s more than I did his 1967 Pontiac GTO  The car was cherry sweet, and I pretty much coveted it as well. But the stereo component system I drooled over it every time I babysat for him & my sister-in-law. I was stunned the day I accidentally over heard my sister in-law suggest to my brother that he give me the old Pioneer set when his new system was delivered. I pretended to not have been eaves dropping while my barely contained excitement was palatable for the next week.

The King of stereo’s The Pioneer.

Today my home stereo is a Bose. I love everything about it,  including the amazing sound and tone I receive from this small electronic that does not require all the separate components anymore like my Pioneer did. In addition to the three components I had also a turn table and  four speakers with sub-woofer & tweeters.  I am a fan of technology going from transistors, to computer chips. I love how compact things have become. More room for music.

Today; My Bose

I made one giant step into the world of technology and how my music is delivered to me. Had I known prior that I could play music on a phone, and  have my music from my home library exported to my phone from my computer I would have been in line for the first one.

I am a late bloomer when it comes to the cell phone craze. I am not a phone person, although ironically I can spend 7 hours on one phone call with my most long time friend such as we did this past December. Typically though I am not one who will  spend my time chatting up friends on the phone. Send them an epic novel length email or snail mail letter, yes. Just ask them.  So my awareness about cell phones was minimal. Until I moved into my apartment in January I had little use for a cell phone. I rarely used the land line. I had a cell phone even then, a prepaid one I kept for traveling  and as a back up.  When I moved I decided to curb expenses to only having just the cell phone. I thought then about upgrading. But me and upgrades don’t always bode well together.

My new stereo

I love this new phone/stereo/secretary.  It is all those things and more. It feels kind of like magic. It even whistles which makes me smile …. But for me the most awesome aspect is that it carries my music and lets me play it wherever I am. I again can take my music everywhere. And I mean everywhere. My daughter said to me recently, ” I cannot believe you fought this for so long and yet have taken to it so well.”

I told her the same thing. Someone just should have just said music and I’d have been there first in line.

~

Disclaimer: This was not a paid advertisement for any one of the above items and no endorsements are implied.

Just thought I should say. ~

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How Do you Say: “Duh!” In French?

 

 

 

 

One of my dearest and closest friend’s, comrades lives in Paris France. She is an American girl just like me, having spent most of her life in the U S of A.

However upon falling in love and marrying a French Man she uprooted all she knew for a new life in a foreign country. Mon cher ami de la jeune fille is not someone who lived a necessarily sheltered life. She is a woman who knows a lot about people, life, and even France. In many ways maybe even more so than a lot of native French do. Though anyone French would be loath to agree with me.

The following is a post from my cher ami’s blog. I thought it fascinating and know you’ll appreciate where she is coming from on many levels. Preface this with the fact that my friend is also medically disabled, has no business walking around Paris WITH NO PHONE let alone trying to function without one that is working.

5 days?

 

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Lost in Translation

Posted: 10 Mar 2012 05:01 PM PST

I would love to tell all of you that life in France is perfect, that it’s a dream, but no. Although Paris is one of the most beautiful cities in the world, it has more than it’s fair share of frustrations. I will share with you one of my days in Paris to fully appreciate the trials and tribulations that go alone with living in a foreign country.

The tactile screen on my cell phone got spotty and ceased up all together just in time for my contract to end. I searched online for my new toy, the little pocket that contains my whole life. I made a chart and brought it to the store, already anticipating that they would be out of stock of my first choice. I was right. The store nearest my house has a sign on it, “Closed until March 9th for maintenance”. There was not enough time that day to go to another store, so I survived that day and through the weekend phoneless. I’ve written about living in the dark ages here before, but I swear, history is alive and well in France. Visions of something between smoke signals and payphones danced in my head.

My doctor’s secretary, being the genius she is, working on her Ph.d. in stupidity, called and left a message on my cell phone for my next appointment after twice, once live on the phone and once in voice mail, leaving my home phone, she threw all rational thought out the window and left the information on my cell. When I called back to find out what is going on, she actually had the nerve to tell me she left a message on my cell. When I reminded her that my cell was broken, I swear I could hear the gerbil’s feet scamper on the wheel. It nearly killed her to have to give me the information that she already left on my cell.

After surviving all of this nonsense, I walked to another store for help with my phone. It was difficult to enter, due to the latter in front of the door. Every superstitious bone in my body made a run down of the current events. A woman greeted me. I began to explain in French when she noticed my accent and asked, “Parlez-vous anglais?” ‘For those of you still learning, that means do you speak English?) I said yes. She said she spoke English and that I could speak in English. I said, “Ok, my phone won’t receive calls and needs to be fixed.” She smiled and told me, “It’s ok, you can speak at a higher level.” I pondered this offer for a second or two then said, “My phone won’t receive called and needs to be fixed.” I’m not quite sure what higher level of English she wanted for that if she didn’t get the first message? She took my phone, called IT support. Then she asked me what the problem with my phone was. I repeated the, no incoming calls bit, going straight to voicemail.” I waited some more, like a duck stuck in the muck. She asked which numbers went to voicemail. I at first said my husband. She told me that his phone is probably blocking my call. I said, “No, it’s my husband, mon marie!” She said, “Yes, it is probably his phone.” My eyes bulged out of my head. I could actually hear some of my brain cells bursting until I said, “My doctor went to voicemail too.” Everything stopped in an instant, as if my doctor were world-famous. Your doctor went to voicemail, votre medicin?” she inquired. I replied,” Yes him too and another friend.” I heard her repeat in French to the IT person that it’s not just the husband, but the doctor went to voicemail. Then she asked me to list the numbers. Well, gee, I needed my cell phone for that!” I did call my husband to have him call and prove the incoming calls were going straight to voicemail. After this fiasco, she hung up the phone to give me the diagnosis. She said, “Your phone should be working in five days. If not, come back and we will see what we can do.” I looked at her and said,”Five days? What do you mean, five days?” She repeated and remained silent. I, being really frustrated, called my husband and asked her to explain to him ‘in French of course). I heard what she said to him in french and what she said in English. I was certain there was just something I missed. After this, my husband said to come home and he would explain. I came home right away, eager to know what was going on. Once I arrived at home, he said, “They said your phone should be working in five days.” I cannot tell you how infuriating it is when you understand something, but are lost in the shuffle, because it’s not your native language. Luckily, my phone began to work that night and it didn’t take five days. I share this with you, so for any of you that think of moving to a foreign country can prepare themselves for the difficulties they will encounter.