I got a new iPhone after Thanksgiving and, quite frankly, I’m ready to throw the thing across the room. Or maybe even in the nearest river!
To start off, I didn’t get the last of my five email boxes cleaned out. As soon as we transferred the email addresses over, the last email box began filling. And filling. And filling. Every time I read and deleted a new email, 100 more would come over.
When it reached 900+ I said to Hubby, “I’m shutting this phone down before it loads all 5,000 + unread emails.”
I spent the next five hours hunched over the computer keyboard deleting the unread emails down to about 84. Then I deleted the 15,000+ deleted emails left on the server just to be sure they didn’t come back. Better to be safe than sorry, as Hubby as seen a few of his deleted emails return to unread status and pop up on the iPhone. Yes, I know, I can’t blame the iPhone because I didn’t clean out my online mail inboxes and trash. But this was just the beginning of the iPhone misadventures.
Unlike my beloved Blackberry, there’s nothing intuitive about this iPhone. Swipe right, swipe left, touch right, touch left. Swipe from the upper corner, tap on the bottom, touch here, touch there. Push partway up and to the right to see where you’ve been on the internet. Swipe up to trash something, or click right, or left depending what app you’re in. Yikes! Who can remember all that?
Stupid iPhone!
Additionally, my finger either doesn’t work or I don’t even touch something and stuff flies off or onto the screen. Once, while merely holding the phone, a box popped up with the message, “To reverse this action, tap the screen with three fingers.” What action? What had I done? What had I erased? Fortunately, the screen told me which fingers to tap with, so I tapped. And tapped. And tapped. The screen didn’t move. It didn’t tell me the unknown action was reversed. I couldn’t even see a back button.
“Honey,” I yelled. “Think I did something wrong!” By the time Hubby came to the rescue I’d punched enough things that the screen was back to what I recognized. Only heaven knows what I might have screwed up!
For every action I did on the Blackberry with one touch, it takes two, or maybe three or more on the iPhone. I’ve read some of the instructions, and tried to search things out on the iPhone book, but apparently I don’t know the new lingo well enough to find things. And I’m usually pretty good with searching. However, nothing seems to have the same names as the Blackberry did.
My texts to my daughter are filled with strange words that I didn’t type, courtesy of predictive typing. I tried to type PTL (Praise the Lord) and it came over on the text as “Pyle.” The words But I came across as “Bilirubin.” And the text screen, filled with facial icons, bubbles holding your text message, and sometimes giant emojis, takes up so much screen space that I can’t easily see the text thread. When my daughter retyped “Bilirubin” I thought SHE had typed the word, not me. I had no idea she was rolling on the floor laughing until the next day when I scrolled up the text stream and saw what I’d done.
And if you think that’s wild, wait until you hear these next items.
The other day, using my iPhone, I tried to call my hubby, who was driving my car. I knew he wouldn’t try to answer his new iPhone, so I called my car phone. At the same time the car phone was ringing, I heard another call beep in. I ignored it, thinking it was a phishing call. Hubby never answered, so I hung up and called him again. The same thing happened. So, I hung up again. As I pulled the phone away from my ear, the second time, my daughter’s name scrolled across the banner on the top of the phone, indicating she was calling.
When I answered, she said in a concerned voice, “Mom, is everything okay. Why are you calling me so much?” (I never call her during work hours.)
“I wasn’t calling you. I was trying to call your dad in my car,” I said.
As she hung up I heard her say to someone, whom I later learned was her boss, “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong. My mom has a new phone.”
When my hubby got to his destination, he called on his cell to see what I needed. He couldn’t remember how to answer my car phone. It doesn’t have Bluetooth pairing like his car. He received my cell phone call on the car phone and, at the same time, my daughter also received a call from my cell phone.
The stupid iPhone called my car phone, while husband was driving it, and called my daughter at the same time.
Here’s the kicker—I did NOT call my daughter’s cell. No way. No how. Not even possible. I swear I never touched her number. I clearly, and positively, know I called my car phone. Yet the iPhone showed it made both calls.
The phone somehow dialed both numbers at the same time! How is that even possible?
Stupid iPhone!
Later in the day I was having a conversation on our home land line when my cell rang. It was my daughter. I knew it was her because I’d attached an ‘Oogah Oogah’ old car horn sound to her calls. An unmistakable and very loud sound. I answered and quickly said, “I can’t talk now. I’ll call back in a few minutes.” Then I hung up. A few minutes later I got another call from her on my cell—the same “Oogha-Oogah ring, but it was my son-in-law on the other end. “Can I call back?” I asked. “I’m in the middle of another call.”
Son-in-law said, “She can’t talk. She’s on the house phone with her mother-in-law.”
“Then why did she call me just a minute ago?” I asked.
Son-in-law calls out to my daughter, “Why are we calling your mother?”
In the background I hear her say, “I didn’t call her. She called me! Twice!”
I know I didn’t call her. The iPhone log showed she called me. She still swears she didn’t call but that I called her.
Stupid iPhone!
Earlier that same morning I was trying to comment on a blog I’ve always had access to on the Blackberry. I’d reached the site via clicking on the title of the blog I’d received in my Catherine Castle mail inbox. The site kept kicking me off. I couldn’t like, share, or comment. So, I went back to the original email, which was still open on my email inbox, and scrolled down to the like button. Click—and I was over to the page instantly, all nicely opened. While complaining to my husband about the wretched phone’s behavior, I slid my finger down the screen to check for my author icon. I wasn’t there, but our joint author icon was.
“Did you just comment on her page?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I was just headed over there right now.”
I rotated my phone screen so he could see it. “You’ve already commented.”
He squinted at me. “Did you open our author email and like the post? Because I did not like that post.”
“I didn’t!” I protested. Although, in all honesty, I sometimes have a problem and click the wrong email box on my phone. I did it with the Blackberry quite often by mistake. So much so that hubby’s threatened to take our joint author email off my phone. He leveled a glary squint at me, not at all convinced I knew what I was talking about.
I switched back to my Catherine Castle email box. The email in question was on the top. I scanned it again. In the To: line it didn’t say Catherine Castle. Instead it had my husband’s name. Somehow the email addressed to his personal email box (which is another glitch I’ll not go into), got scrambled and put in my author email box and linked our joint author photo to it.
Stupid iPhone!
I could go on with my misadventures with the stupid iPhone, which I’m sure will continue until my weary blonde brain figures it all out or I end up in the funny farm. However, I’ve already exceeded a thousand words on this rant.
On the bright side, there are a couple of things I do like on the iPhone. I did discover one useful tool. I accidently deleted an email one evening and moaned in distress over my actions.
“Shake it!” Hubby said.
“What?” I replied.
“Shake it! Shake the phone!” he yelled urgently.
Bemused and befuddled, I did as he commanded, although I hadn’t the foggest idea why. An icon popped up on the screen.
“Now, tell it to untrash,” he said. “Hurry before the icon disappears.”
I did, and, Lo and Behold, my trashed email reappeared like magic.
Pretty cool for such a. . . Stupid iPhone!
I can also draw pictures in my emails. A feature that I’m sure will be a giant time suck. I’ve already drawn and sent pictures to my daughter, and I’m considering how I can use this tool for Christmas email cards.
Twitter works again and so does Pinterest. So I can waste endless hours surfing instead writing, cleaning and practicing the piano. Although piano is never a waste of time. It’s more of a joy.
Hopefully, as time passes, I’ll find more to like and less to complain about. One thing is for sure—as I learn this new device I’m giving my family and friends lots to laugh about.
Do you have an iPhone? Have you any tips for me?
Catherine loves to laugh at herself and loves to write comedy. Check out her award-winning romantic comedy, with a touch of drama,A Groom for Mama.
Available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble
A Groom for Mama
By Catherine Castle
Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.
The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.
A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.
About the Author:
Multi-award winning author Catherine Castle loves writing. Before beginning her career as a romance writer she worked part-time as a freelance writer. She has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit, under her real name, in the Christian and secular market. She also lays claim to over 300 internet articles written on a variety of subjects and several hundred poems. In addition to writing she loves reading, traveling, singing, theatre, quilting and gardening. She’s a passionate gardener whose garden won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club. She writes sweet and inspirational romances. You can find her award-winning Soul Mate books The Nun and the Narc and A Groom for Mama, on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Follow her on Twitter @AuthorCCastle, FB or her blog.
Tags: Catherine’s Comments, iPhone, essay, humor, A Groom for Mama, Techy misadventures, romantic comedy, sweet romance
Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.
Multi-award winning 
But the side effect this pandemic has had on my home is pretty scary, too. Not only am I turning into a hoarder of toilet paper, facial tissues, rubbing alcohol, and bars of soap…and I won’t even mention the stack of paper items and non-perishable foods in the basement pantry. I’m also facing the dreaded issue of clutter. An issue I thought I’d conquered, at least in the public, open floor plan spaces of my home.
Patrice Locke studied journalism at Michigan State University. Then an unexpected job offer drew her westward. She worked for New Mexico and Arizona newspapers, covering everything from government meetings and drug busts to Navajo Code Talkers and haunted houses.
Catherine Castle 