For the unhip (this pun is intended), a Blackberry is a PDA crossed with a cell phone -- a mutant so to speak. Yes, it connects me at the hip, 24/7 to both the telephone and e-mail. And that is why it makes me a major hypocrite because I have made it very clear that I hate the phone and I haven't even confessed to you that I find the misuse of e-mail a major evil that is fast approaching replacing both the telephone and Epinions.com as the number one DEVIL in my book.
In my defense, I have it for work. Because, being a man on the go, it is important that they be able to track me down at all times like the miserable corporate toady that I am. And it is extra important that I be able to read e-mails while I'm in the men's room (the stall near the window that catches the morning sun just right and warms the seat) about the financial tracking software being temporarily unavailable between 2 and 3 a.m.
The worst part about it is that I can't put the damned thing down. Every 2 minutes I pop it up and check my latest Spam. I can't help it. I tell myself that I'm being productive and staying one step ahead of my inbox. Bull pucky. They don't call it Crackberry for nothing.
But what really chaps my hide is that I haven't read a book on the bus since I got the thing. If I'm not checking my e-mail, I'm playing Brickbreaker -- the only stinkin' game the thing comes with. I play it over and over and over. At first I thought the levels would go on and on forever. But one day, I managed to get beyond the tricky wall of steel that you have to bounce your ball at an angle to wing over and break the bricks. It took me to a simple field of bricks thay you leisurely break. That's the last level. And do you know what happens after the last level? No, it doesn't try to get you to buy additional levels. I'd be okay with that. All it does is pop up a window that says, "Congratulations." Then you start over. Can you say, Sisyphean? Probably not, but it's something that is "incessantly reoccuring."
So, basically I'm stuck with my Blackberry obsession (which I imagine got its name because it invades your life like nasty blackberry vines complete with thorns) until the next trendy bit of technology comes along. My bet is that it will be an implant or something that you ingest that actually turns you into an organic PDA. And if I'm any judge of the people that come up with these things, it won't be ingested orally. Just some food for thought.
I've got to get back to my Blackberry.