Wiftees News

Two bills are being deliberated in the Georgia state legislature to ban texting while driving in the state. 17 states have already taken similar action, so Georgia is ahead of most states. This is hot news! Georgia’s even ahead of WordPress technologically speaking. I know this because the WordPress spell check just rejected the word “texting” as a misspelling. (Then again, WordPress just rejected “WordPress”….d-ohhh! There it goes again. 3 for 3.)

I contemplated these deep and thorny issues today as I toyed around with my brand new company issue iPhone. (OK, Wordpress just rejected “iPhone” also. It doesn’t reject the names, “Bosch,” “Boswell,” “Terence,” or “Vladimir.” So why does it reject “WordPress” and “iPhone?” Could it be the capitalisation? Nope, not that either…) Anywho, most people seem to understand that texting while driving is a problem. So why do we do it? In fact, why do people get so darn addicted to texting in the first place, let alone texting while driving?

And then it came to me today, as I drove home from the Apple store with a sleek new Bluetooth headset (WordPress rejected “Bluetooth” too. Do you think they would pay me to fix their dictionary?) The addiction isn’t the texting. It’s that evil little iPhone. It’s just so damn sexy. And we’re driving along together…just me and my shiny new little lover-box. It’s laying over there in the passenger seat as I cruise along I-400 at 70 mph. And because an iPhone has that smooth touch-screen, its even better than the Guinea pig my daugher’s friend across the street just got. You pretend to do business all day long but that’s really just an excuse to pet your iPhone…better than a Guinea pig. And the iPhone quietly sits in passenger seat. It doesn’t have to say anything. Our mutual silence is pregnant with it’s neediness, “How can you just leave me here? Why did you stop petting me? Love me! Touch me! Talk to me! TEXT with me…” Ah HAH! This insidious texting thing is a manipulative ploy by our devices for attention.

I had promised myself, you see, just before I got the phone, that I would be responsible with it. I would not dial, surf, or text while driving. I had no idea the phone was to be an iPhone. Handing an iPhone to an electronics lover is like handing a tequila shot to an alcoholic. “It’s just a tiny little glass. Go on. One little shot couldn’t hurt, could it?”

The addiction comes fast and furious with the wonder of the brand new gadget. I suspect it doesn’t have to be an iPhone, either. It could be a Droid or a Blackberry. Anything that comes with cool software and connectivity. So I put the phone back down. I’m still in a bit of a cold sweat, but we’ll get through this together. Me and my iPhone. If anyone wants to start a support group. Just let me know.

The Whiff