After more than 10 months and like four flawed phones, I’ve ditched my cutting edge-at-the-time Blackberry Storm and gone iPhone. I know, I know – small step for mankind. File this news in your “Who Cares?” basket if you wish, but I promise you there are people out there who will benefit greatly by my having made this move and they know who they are.
Aside from me, of course.
They include Crossroads KC promoter Brett Mosiman and the artist known as Stretch, both of whom my Storm pocket called – or “ass-dialed,” as Stretch so delicately put it – dozens, if not hundreds of times.
When’s the last time anybody’s cell phone was so un-smart it repeatedly redialed the last number based on merely being jostled in a pants pocket? The Storm was an expert at that. But no mas.
Nor will the sensitive buttons along the Storm’s sides ever again piss me off by activating the camera or triggering a voice request for me to verbally name someone I want it to dial. And then loudly pronounce, “No match found” when I ignore the uninvited request.
It’s annoying, OK?
Texting is about a million times easier on the iPhone than the Storm. I virtually never hit the wrong key. On the Storm I was batting a little over .500 which made for some tedious texting.
So while I well may miss Verizon and its killer coverage, it was time to move on and I have.
And Brett, Stretch – if you see my name on your caller IDs, go ahead and answer, it’s really me. Honest.