If you’re a writer, you know nothing’s ever really done and over with until you’ve written about it. And it is with fervent hope that I may finally find closure that I am now writing about the loss of my first touchscreen phone.
But first, let me say that I don’t think it’s being overly materialistic to write about the loss of one’s gadget—especially if you purchased it using your own money (thereby making a major, major dent in your very meager savings) and has used the thing for all but eight months.
I could point to my shorts’ pockets being too shallow to have really kept my phone snug and secure. I could also say that my being a bit inebriated that night had probably lead to my unusually brazen carelessness, but really, I knew it was bound to happen anyway. Just as things have always been bound to happen. It’s always about timing; never a matter of “if”, but “when”. Kings, queens, popes—even champion boxers, especially those from impoverished countries who have proven that to conquer the world, sometimes you need nothing more than a smattering of English and knuckles strong enough to disfigure other people’s faces—they have all come and gone, and will still be coming and going for as long as we’re pacified by a consumerist society that’s diverted our energies to the accumulation of material things, that’s shackled our minds from aspiring for something better, that’s made us to believe that all there ever is to life is a nice flatscreen TV in a plush living room where sometimes we can watch movies that may or may not bring us the realization that, well, most of us are destined to become ordinary anyway, and that to do great art, or topple governments, or spawn cults, you couldn’t have probably spent your boring days getting all giddy in front of the TV, anticipating the next line you’d quote on your Facebook status. No, Nobel winners probably didn’t spend considerable amounts of time fretting over the loss of their earthly possessions either.
WAIT—WHERE DID ALL THIS OOMPFUNQBAGOWBGQGKNGJOWHEGSEMI-PROFOUNDRANTING COME FROM?
Sigh. But really, it’s a lot like loosing an appendage. And having to downgrade to a simpler model is like being implanted with a less dexterous limb.
It’s going to take a long a time for me to replace it with an equally good one, but at least, I’ve got one more solid motivation to really save money. And I guess I should be thankful that it’s only a cellphone that I lost. Many people lose bigger, more valuable things all the time: innocence, relationships, sanity,
virginity, integrity, life.