Sunday, July 27, 2008
Conflicted over the iPhone
If you’re a Canadian business person who travels at all and has a Smart phone, you probably have a monthly mobile phone bill that equals half a mortgage payment. Not surprising, as Canada has the highest wireless phone and data rates in the Western world. I found http://www.thomaspurves.com/2007/04/09/canada-worse-than-3rd-world-countries-when-it-comes-to-mobile-data-access/” title="someone who had done the math">someone who had done the math, though he got the name of the Canadian agency that regulates cellular telephone companies. It’s the Canadian Wireless Telecommunication Association. (On their site, the association claims to advocate for the industry to the CRTC, which means that Canadians aren’t likely going to get any sweet deals on wireless soon, if they have their way.)
Which brings me to my own sweet deal. I’ve been doing the annual spring conference tour, either presenting or podcasting, and as soon as I crossed the border, I turned off my phone. (This despite having a Talk North America plan, which still dings me $800/month phone bills some months. Yes, Telus, but but but ... whatever. I care about my user experience, not your business justifications.) My friend, Scott, from Indianapolis, immediately handed me his extra US mobile phone for my use during my 10-day trip. Bliss. Better yet, the phone turned out to be an iPhone. As Scott tossed me the phone, he said I wouldn’t need any instructions other than the basics. Well, I needed a few, but very few, and they were for bonus functions, such as pinching or expanding thumb and forefinger on the screen to contract or enlarge the size of a Web page.
I loved being able to use Twitter from anywhere, to connect to whatever wireless network was handy, to having virtually no extra clicks to move between applications or to confirm or close applications, no typing lag time, and best of all - unlimited voice and data plan! No mobile-use guilt while in the US. What a difference it makes when doing business.
Now I’m regretting getting the HTC P4000. My initial excitement at getting a new Smart phone quickly dissipated when I couldn’t get the phone to sync with my computer (it seemed to be an incompatibility between Vista and Windows Mobility Centre but a system restore of my computer had the function working - for a day before it stopped working again). For a while, I carried my old phone around, just for quick access to phone numbers, but without voice activation, making calls was just too painful, and though I had my calendar appointments on the old phone, I never heard the reminders because the phone was buried in my bag. So I basically use the HTC P4000 as a “dumb” phone for incoming calls, at least until someone, somewhere can get it working. Maybe by then, Telus will get the iPhone (I’m stuck with almost a 3-year contract with them still), and I’ll be able to toss this piece of hardward that requires multiple extra clicks for every function I want to use.
Even then, I’m not hopeful that I can get it set up at all. When I called the HTC call center, the rep I had kept asking me to click on menu commands that didn’t exist in Windows Mobility Centre, and eventually he confessed that they didn’t have any Vista machines so he could follow along. (Well, they did have one in their crash lab, but he didn’t want to run back and forth to the lab.) The first Telus rep was hopeless, and the second one couldn’t help me, either, though sounded more together. I’ve been wanting to mention to them that I have to reboot the phone a lot, but fear that I’ll get an inane answer. The only folks who seemed to really be helpful was the good folks at Apex - but no matter what they did, they couldn’t crack the code, either.
So iPhone holders, keep your delightful electronic gadgets away from me. I may just drool into the keys, and then where would you be?
Monday, July 14, 2008
Pride and the nature of community
This time of year is when Pride celebrations happen at various times around North America, starting late June, and wrapping up around beginning of August. It gets me thinking about visibility and community, and I needed to share some observations and thoughts on the topic.
Last weekend I went to Victoria, where E and I had intended to take in the Pride Parade. Who knew it was so short that by the time we wandered down to the street where it was to take place, the parade would be over? That we missed the parade isn’t the point of the post, however; it’s what happened peripherally to the event, and has become an all-too-familiar pattern.
When we got to the street where the parade was supposed to be passing by, and didn’t see signs of it, I deduced that we were either too early or too late, so I thought I’d ask someone. Across the street, I spied two women who looked like they might be a couple - definitely members of the tribe, anyways - and would ask whether we’d missed the parade. They were friendly enough with their answers, and proceeded to explain what a Pride Parade was, and about the demographic who participated in it. And as I stood there with my wife a mere few paces away, I wondered why I was so invisible to her as a fellow member of the tribe, so to speak? Granted, it was easy for my gaydar to go off - they both had very short hair with what could be called “dykey” haircuts, comfortable clothing, and carted a tie-dye carry bag. If that’s not a profile from the Dykes to Watch Out For comic strip, I don’t know what is. But I didn’t think I was so “straight-looking”. Clad in belted shorts and a plain scoop-neck shirt, ASICS runners, sans purse and a phone clamped to my belt, the only difference was a bit of eyeliner and a good haircut.
But there’s something about me that seems to bring down a straight-jacket exterior (pun intended); wherever I go, I’m taken for the fag hag or the PFLAG mom instead of my inner lipstick lesbian. A number of years ago, I was walking towards the annual Dyke March and Festival on Commercial Drive, pushing my infant grandson in a stroller. As I caught the eye of a lesbian couple holding hands, walking in the opposite direction and smiled appreciatively at their delight in one other, one turned to me and spat out, “Yes, we are everywhere!” Yes, we are, but it seems that some of us are just more myopic than others. Similar scenes have taken place over the years, to the point where I don’t acknowledge fellow (fella?) lesbians, because they generally think I’m a straight person getting my jollies gawking at them. In fact, at this point, if a fellow community member were to give me “the look”, I think I’d be so shocked, I wouldn’t know what to do. Look away? Turn around to see who they’re really looking at? Stare back, incredulous?
On the other hand, being invisible has probably kept me out of trouble. It’s allowed me to be spared the drama that many of my friends and acquaintances have gotten drawn into, over the years. Instead of getting hit on, I’ve been left in peace to work on my personal growth, build my business, and take care of my family. And fittingly, the community I’ve found has been through those venues, where business and personal and friendships meet. My community has a great mix to it, including wonderful people from demographics that are sometimes undeservedly stereotyped as homophobic, where my sexuality is simply not an issue. My circle of friends includes engineers and musicians, software developers and photographers, marketing consultants and technical writers, UX professionals and content management types, artists and executives, teachers and project managers. A few of them share my sexual orientation; most of them don’t, or, I assume they don’t; a few of them share my spiritual beliefs; most of them don’t, or I assume they don’t. What we share is often different but what boils down to having a good core, and I think it’s made me a more balanced person in the end. So in the spirit of Pride, here’s to being proud of all aspects of my life, from my family - right from wife down to my precious grandchildren - to the friends support me, whether they be near or far, and my community that surrounds me.