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Goodnight, sweet tracphone
May 24, 2010 - Deb Gau
Well, it finally happened. My cell phone is on its last legs. I've hung onto it since 2003, which in cell phone years makes it older than the discovery of fire. It's a Kyocera Rave - it doesn't flip open, or take pictures, or have Internet access. It's so old it's shaped like a walkie-talkie, with an antenna on top.
But the ironic thing is that after all that time, it still functions just fine. No, it was a patented Deb Gau Household Accident that spelled doom for my phone. This weekend, I entered the kitchen, rummaging in my purse for something or other, and dropped the phone on the floor. Its little decorative faceplate (customizable phone faceplates — remember those?) flew off, as did the plastic doohickey with the touchtone numbers. The doohickey vanished into a black hole and was devoured by elves, or so I'm led to believe because it was nowhere to be found in the kitchen, not even under the refrigerator or stove.
Like I said, the phone still works perfectly, albeit in its limited 2003-technology way. I can remember what all the buttons do without the doohickey, but I need a pen or a stylus to push them. What's the point? Sorry, phone. It's been fun, but we've come to the end.
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