Over The Counter Apps
I jerked up in my seat with a sudden sense of hazy clarity, immediately coming slowly to the realization that something was drastically wrong with the balance of the universe (and my ability to use non-contradictory adverbs.)
Naturally, with the weight of such lofty understanding hovering over me, my eyes started to glaze over.
Beads of sweat slowly formed along the crest of my left eyebrow as my hands began shaking like one of those 50-cent wind up chatter toys.
One of two things was happening. Either:
1. A tear in the fabric of space and time was threatening life as we know it, or only slightly less catastrophic;
2. I had lost my iPhone.
Any of you who have experienced this know that it’s a world away from losing any other kind of personal possession. Our whole lives are on these phones! Contacts, schedules, accounts, to do lists, messages, emails (and of course all of the arguably less important things like games, time killers, and most importantly… digital noisemakers.) Losing this single piece of technology the size of a strawberry pop tart is akin to losing your desktop computer, your xbox, your generic mP3 player (ok, lets be honest; does anyone actually know someone who has an mP3 player thats not an iPod?), your calculator, your gps unit, your notepad, and your soothing koi fish pond. Like I said...devestating.
The withdrawal fear slowly crept into my system as I thought about what my bleak, dystopian future held in store for me. And then, in the midst of my despair, another feeling crept into my system. I was surprised to find that it was not the cold, metallic-taste of panic; but rather a kind of nostalgic reverie. It was here at this moment that I suddenly realized the little ticks and tocks of the iPhone; those features that you don't always appreciate, but that I missed the most. And they weren't the ones I was necessarily expecting.
I missed the way you slide your finger across the screen to unlock it. You don't need a password. You don't use some convoluted button combination. No, you just non-chalantly brush your finger across the screen and your in. People everywhere recognize this gesture and as soon as you do it (especially in the crowded elevators at work), you see one of two Pavlovian responses: