Sprint does not want me to unplug.

The Palm Pixi

Yesterday I put part one of my social experiment into action by successfully canceled texting from my cell phone line.  Today was the first day in a long time that I haven't received any texts.  Several times this morning I caught myself checking to see if I had any missed texts alerts.  Of course I had none.  By 11am I stopped checking.


I also visited my local Sprint store today to check on a new phone.  It's been almost 3 years since I replaced my previous phone with my current Palm Treo, and my upgrade discount is maxed out.


Two issues were quite frustrating right off the bat.  In order to replace my current Smart Phone with the free one they offer when you renew your contract, you're required to have a data plan.  When I got my current smart phone, I got it specifically so I could use the Palm software to manage my calendar, and didn't need or want the $35/mo. data plan.  Now it's required . . . and it's a racket.  So it looks like a new Smart Phone (which are really cool by the way) won't pan out.  It doesn't really matter though, because I'm back to the archaic method of pencil and paper.


Then I checked the conventional cell phones, and most of them could only hold 300 entries in the contact list.  I have 513 entries.  Bummer.  I was able to find one phone (an LG) that held 600 entries in the contact list.  So out of 40 phones in the store, I was able to find one that worked for me.


In the end I walked out with my faithful Palm Treo still in hand, and now I'm deliberating what to do next.  Should I go ahead and cash in my discount now to get the new LG "dumb" phone.  Or wait?  The discount will not increase, so it will be the same 6-12 months from now.  I'm also considering making a huge jump and leaving Sprint after 11 years.  Verizon is calling.  Somewhere we don't need a 2-yr. contract is calling.


What do you think?

Social Experiment

I recently decided to give up texting as the first half of a two-part social experiment.  I started using texts frequently about two years ago, eventually paying for a plan giving me 300 texts per month.  To some people, 300/mo. sounds like a ridiculously small amount seeing as my 17-yr. old nephew sends twice that many in one day.  My text usage has continued to increase, causing me many frustrating overages.

In June I completed a five month sabbatical.  It was absolutely grand.  One of the crucial realizations I had during my sabbatical was the slow and quiet disappearance of margin in my life.  When every spare moment of my life is scheduled, or I can be beeped (text/email/calendar) at any hour of the day through my cell phone, there’s hardly any room for the necessary breathing in and out of the Holy Spirit in my mind and heart.  So now I'll no longer be tempted to send texts while driving or to glance at my beeping phone while talking with my wife or children.  I'll be free from the bonds of text etiquette.

We need space . . . ruthless and consistent space in our life so that we have a chance to hear the voice of God speaking to us.  We need space so we can think.  We need space so we can authentically relate with our friends and those in our family who are too young to send me text messages.  If we embrace margin, unexpected and difficult circumstances will less likely cause stress and panic.  We’ll be better equipped to simply and calmly trust God.  We'll be able to discover an unhurried and thoughtful life.  

So I'm unplugging from the text Matrix for 6-12 months.  If you send me a text you will receive a short, polite text message from Sprint informing you that my number no longer receives texts.  I'm assuming that if you really need to reach me, you'll call me.  Vice versa.

The second part of this social experiment is that after 2 years of using a Palm Treo for my calendar, I'm going back to paper and pencil: DayMinder 2010.   The digital calendar was both helpful and convenient.  I was able to sync it to my computer, and everything was right there at my fingertips.  Slick.  But my Palm was merciless about reminding me of my next appointment, or that I was running late for a man to man.  How many texts did I send while driving?  "Hey man.  I'm going to be a little late." or "Hey man.  Be right there."  Etc.

So I'm giving up both for awhile.  Afterwards some big questions should be answered: Can I really survive without texts?  Will I forget or get lost on my way to my appointments without my Palm?  We'll see.  Besides, wouldn't you rather hear my sweet voice than go through a long, boring exchange of text messages?     lol

Car Alarms

HONK!  HONK!  HONK!

"What's that noise, Daddy?"  my daughter Rose asked.  "That's a car alarm, sweetheart.  Somebody's set it off by accident."  It's 9am and we're sitting at the breakfast table playing her new favorite card game: War.

HONK!  HONK!  HONK!

I'm reminded why we don't have a car alarm - I hate them.  For as long as I can remember I've detested unnecessary, repetitive noises.   Vibrating change in the ashtray, dripping faucets, barking dogs and especially car alarms.

HONK!  HONK!

"That's loud. " Rose says.  I give her a smile.  "Well, maybe one of our neighbors is testing it to see if we can hear it all the way in here." 

HONK!

Alright already!  Someone get that thing turned off!  I crane my neck to look out into the yard.  A thin layer of ice and snow left by last night's brief return of winter covers the grass.  In the driveway my unhonking car is also covered with ice, but the sun is out and everything is already starting to melt quickly.  I'm thankful for the sun this morning.

HONK!

"It's your turn, Daddy."  Rose says gently.  Apparently I've allowed the noise to distract me from what's really important.  I need to stop obsessing about the car alarm and focus my attention on the game.  I push the noise out of my mind.

I turn my next card over.  It's a seven of clubs.  "We both have sevens!  War!"  Rose exclaims.  We both count out three cards and lay them face down.  "This next card is it," I say.  "Whoever has the higher card  keeps all of them.  Ready?"  Both of us lay our cards down.

HONK!  HONK!  HONK!

"That's it!  I'm finding out who this idiot is!" I say not exactly under my breath.  I slam my cards down on the table and go for the front door.  "You're not allowed to say that word, Daddy."  I barely even hear Rose's rebuke as I open the door and stand on the front porch.  "Which of my dumb neighbors is it this time?"  I'm literally fuming.

HONK!  HONK! 

"Who is it?"  I look frantically up and down the driveways.

HONK!  HONK! 

"C'mon!!"  I yell to my empty yard.

HONK!  HONK!

My eyes are suddenly drawn to the corner of my house, and I see the downspout has broken away from the gutter and is hanging in midair.  Water is gushing out of the spoutless gutter.

What the . . . ?

All the melting ice and snow from my roof is running down the side of my house and into my basement!

HONK!  HONK!

Several thought's blast through my brain simultaneously as I sprint for the garage to get my ladder:

How on earth did that break?
How long has the water been running like that?
Is my basement going to be flooded?
I don't need this right now!
This is just great.

HONK!  HONK!

I open the garage door and wrestle my aluminum ladder from the wall.  I've got to get that downspout reconnected right away or I'll have some serious problems in my basement.

HONK!  HONK!

As I'm running down the driveway with my ladder something quietly occurs to me:

"If that car alarm hadn't been going off this morning, I probably wouldn't have stepped outside and noticed the broken downspout."

HONK!  HONK!

"That water could've gushed for a couple hours before I noticed it was broken.  (I mean really, who does a daily check to see that their downspouts are connected and working properly?)"

HONK!  HONK!

"God must have set that car alarm off so I'd go outside and see the broken downspout!"

HONK!  HON . . . .

The car alarm stopped at the exact moment the last thought entered my mind.

Hmmmmm.

 I guess I don't really mind car alarms after all.