phones and me and notebooks

Two observations about phones (by which, I maybe need to clarify, I mean smartphones).

1) Yesterday I took a bus trip. I last took this trip two years ago (and the year before that, and so on). What was striking this time was that apparently a memo went out (which I didn’t get) and now nobody uses paper tickets anymore.

Except me.

Everybody else had some thing on their phones that the bus driver scanned with another thing that looked like a phone (but may not have been). And there I was, with my multi-part perforated ticket, that I bought at the bus station, just like always, and the bus driver didn’t even rip off the first section and take it, as in days of old. She just scanned it.

2) On the other hand, now, for me, writing is a thing that happens on my phone. I used to be really into good notebooks and good (Lamy) pens and so on, but even though I bought a new notebook for this trip, it’s sitting in my bag, unused, and I’ve written a lot the next installment of my current story in the last few days, all on my phone.

I’m writing this on my phone, sitting in a comfortable lawn chair, looking out over the harbor, sipping iced tea, and I’ll probably post it before I stand up.

I’d even include a photo, except that that’s one of the things my phone does that I don’t know how to do. Like buying bus tickets.

But I know how to write mystery stories on it, and that beats photography, at least for me.

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