Blogging about first-world-problems (such as when you’re unable to unshuffle your phone playlist, which brings you to the brink of suicide) and about yoga bricks brought to my mind by free association memories of the beginnings of technology for me.
How do bricks come in? It was in the late 1990s and my entrepreneurial father purchased what was probably the first cell phone on local market. This is Eastern Europe, so if you’re in the Western world, you were likely experiencing this stage of development about a decade earlier.
My father’s mobile phone wasn’t very mobile as its battery lasted for about one call. The phone had the design, size and weight of a brick (with an antenna), hence I affectionately called it The Brick. (This is how the brick comes in.) Among its good qualities was its durability—I once dropped it on stone steps and, besides the standby call being interrupted, nothing at all happened. Everyone knows what happens when you drop an iPhone.
Phones came in also when I was teaching class the other day and a student delivered a compulsory presentation on the topic of her choice—which was phubbing, defined as “the habit of snubbing someone in favour of a mobile phone”. I realised neither that this cute quirk had a name nor that it was considered other than standard behaviour. Of course, I’m socially stunted, so I don’t count.
After the presentation and some obligatory teaching, I announced a break. While the students clearly heard me, they didn’t stir and just lifted their phones from their laps, where they inefficiently hide them during class, up to their chests and proceeded to fiddle with them while smiling idiotically. Naturally, I only noticed this mass behaviour when I happened to glance up from my own phone at which I was smiling idiotically.
This cheered me up strangely—I mean, at least we have something to smile about, right?