We just lost a friend to addiction. We tried to get her help. We tried to intervene. We watched her suffer and we suffered, too. But eventually we realized that even though our dear friend is practically family and we’ve been through it all over the last 40 years, she continues to choose the phone over human interaction and we cannot change her. We cannot even guide her. We’re tired of the fights. We’re tired of the defensiveness. We’re tired of being ignored while watching her large glassy eyes and pale face reflecting twitter feeds at the dinner table. So we relent, with great sadness. Phone addiction has claimed another quality human.
It started innocently. “I don’t need a cell phone — who do I need to talk to if I’m not at home or work?” Ah, the innocence of the early 2000’s. Then 2007 arrived like a thunderclap with the first iPhone. But still: “It’s too big! It’s too fragile! It’s too expensive! What’s an app? I like my little flip-phone. I like my buttons. And texting is stupid: why would I pay to send a message when it’s easier to call?”
But all her friends got one. And before long nearly everyone in the world. And the iPhone 3G was infinitely better. And the 4! And THE 6+!! Nothing was so mesmerizing. The screen could become anything and you could Have It All. Anywhere. Anytime. Even at the dinner table.
