If I am, indeed, “hapless,” meaning unlucky, then all I have to do to get out of my funk is push Google’s button titled “I’m feeling lucky.”
But I can’t because, frankly, I’m totally “app-less.” My flip phone is just that — it’s a phone.
I’m growing tired of hearing, “Oh, there’s an app for that.”
I remember several years ago someone showed me a feature on their phone where, by pushing a button, you could hear the sound of the cocking of a rifle and then a single shot being fired. He could also turn his cellphone into a carpenter’s level. Neither “app,” as I learned they were called, seemed necessary. An equally cynical friend of mine confessed that of all the available apps on his cellphone, the flashlight was the most used.
If the evolutionists are right, somewhere down the line we’ll all be born with tiny little thumbs so we can text more efficiently on those miniscule keyboards. It won’t even be called “typing.” It will probably be called “thumbing.”
I’m making light of all this technology because I fail to see where it has improved anything. We know trying to use a cellphone and drive has resulted in fatal accidents. Now we’re finding it necessary to warn folks not to talk and text as well. I was waiting in line at a fast-food restaurant recently, and two adults and two children were seated in their booth waiting for their food. All four were looking at their phones. Nobody was talking.
I know that some apps are free and others you pay for.
Should I be tempted some time in the near future to purchase one of those very smart phones, I would want available to me apps that would help in such situations:
▪ When I see someone shove a shopping cart into the flower bed or between cars instead of putting it away in the cart holding area, I will be able to point my device at the rude person’s car and one tire would go flat.
▪ While at a graduation, I would be able to silence one of those air horns that always seem to be just behind me.
▪ While in a concert at the Mid-State Fair, with only a push of the app on my smartphone, I could reduce the volume level by at least 80 decibels.
Lon Allan’s column is special to The Tribune. He has lived in Atascadero for nearly five decades, and his column appears here every week. Reach Allan at 466-8529 or firstname.lastname@example.org.