[Anonymous]

[Anonymous]

In which our correspondent realises that sometimes social media is best left to the kids…

I have been dreaming about simpler times – a prelapsarian era before social networking and mobile phones, when asterisks were for footnotes, not a new form of punctuation to denote a self-referential aside *rolls eyes*.

Of course, it’s easy to be nostalgic, especially when the modern-day technology we have at our fingertips seems not only to demand more and more of our time and brainpower, but have built-in tripwires to catch out anyone born before 1990.

Until recently, I had a Blackberry, the keyboard a last-ditch attempt to cling on to a level of simplicity I could understand. But in a vain attempt to be a bit trendier – and to understand this new “social” world that, from where I’m standing, has only made my kids more antisocial – I upgraded to an Apple iPhone 4S.

It promised so much – hundreds of apps to make my travelling life easier, GPS so I need never get lost again, a built-in camera, Facetime video-calling (so my wife can ask for a tour of my hotel room – yikes), the iCloud (not a clue what that does), and Siri.

The last, I had been told by the phone shop adviser, was like a personal virtual assistant, there to tell me whether I needed to carry an umbrella to work, or transcribe a message for a colleague. I liked the sound of Siri. I imagined a silken-voiced woman, someone like Joan from Mad Men, calmly informing me of my meetings for the day.

Unpacking it, I felt a flutter of excitement. I sensed that with this slender magic box I would be equipped to take on the 21st century – I would start twittering, I would create a Pinterest, I would have Siri, dammit.

But first, I needed to get to the airport. The adviser had shown me how I could ask the phone a question simply by talking into it, so I decided to try it out by calling a taxi. I pressed the button and a microphone icon popped up with a friendly “What can I help you with?” written above it. I said: “Call Addison Lee.” After a moment, a man’s voice spoke back: “Calling Adele Lee.” “No!” I shouted at the Hal-like imposter, frantically pressing the end call button before it connected to a rather over-keen former colleague, who I suspect fancies me (don’t laugh, I cut quite a dash when I suck my belly in).

So I rang the taxi the old-fashioned way, though resolved to download some apps in the car.

Foursquare was the first – a slightly sinister piece of software that my son told me would be great when I travel because I could “check in” to places and get points. Baffled but intrigued – I had achieved elite status with virtually every hotel chain, so why not this? – I signed up and allowed it to sync with my Facebook account. I mean, I only had 34 friends so couldn’t see the harm.

Next was Tweet Deck, to help me post on our company’s Twitter accounts. The day before I had set off for my conference, one of our juniors had spent half an hour explaining “hashtags” and “mentions” and “retweets” to me. While at the time I was convinced I had mastered it, now I wasn’t so sure. What was the @ sign for again? And why was it important not to confuse #MINF (Meet International Frankfurt) with #MILF?

As I waited in line at airport security, I pulled the phone out to send a text message to a client in Germany. Startled by the super-responsive touchscreen and the rapidly moving queue, I rattled off: “What time is the meeting with Mr Heinz tomorrow morning?” What I didn’t realise until a few minutes later, when I got a response asking me politely if I’d like them to order in some pastries, was that what I had actually written was: “What time is the meeting wit Me Heinz tomorrow munching.” The shame.

I cursed my fat fingers, switching it off in a huff, and didn’t turn it on again until I had landed. Meet International Frankfurt was well under way when I arrived, and as I queued for the cloakroom I decided to have a go at checking in on Foursquare. It was simple enough, and I even earned a “Newbie” badge.

At my company’s stand, however, I was in for a shock, as who was loitering there but Adele. “I noticed your missed call and saw your check-in on Facebook – great to see you!”

I sensed there was a lesson to be learnt from all this, but seeing as it wasn’t exactly her fault that I had broadcast my whereabouts to the world, I graciously posted a tweet about our meeting later in the day: “Good to catch up with @AdeleLee #MILF”. Then wondered why everyone retweeted it with a “ROFL”. *Cringe*. I am going back to my Blackberry.

[andrew.gill]

great post, thanks for the lunchtime laugh

andrew

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