One evening last week, Hubs came home and boldly announced that he had plum stripped his cell phone down, and suddenly I felt like an old woman in a young girl’s world, because I had absolutely no idea what that term even meant.
Apparently, Hubs took everything off of his phone. And by everything, I mean all the software. Personally, I wasn’t even aware of the fact that my cell phone EVEN HAD software loaded on it. My knowledge of my smart phone has a difficult time flexing itself beyond HOW TO TEXT and HOW TO MAKE CALLS and HOW TO PLAY WORDS WITH FRIENDS. Hubs not only knew that his phone was loaded with software, he understood the software, and he knew how to rid himself of the bits of it that he didn’t like. And then, he reloaded just the things he wanted on his phone.
The end result was simple: Hubs’ phone is now no longer Alltel-specific. He could use it with T-Mobile. Or Sprint. Or, heaven forbid, Verizon. He could even access cell towers on Neptune, if he needed to. He could use that phone in a box, with a fox. Or on a boat, with a goat. On top of all that, Hubs’ phone is now MUCH FASTER. He and I have identical phones; mine’s just the one with the winning Words With Friends game against him on it.
(Although, I will publicly admit that Hubs PLUM BEAT ME in our first WWF game — which should never be confused with the WWF that is Fake Wrestling + Glitzy Costumes. In that initial game, I ended up with five E’s and a J. It doesn’t take the proofreader at Webster’s to know that you’re not going to get very far with THOSE letters, which is exactly the reason Hubs won.)
After stripping down his phone, Hubs put our two phones side-by-side on our kitchen counter, and he pressed their POWER IT UP! buttons at the same time. While mine was still spinning its wheels and thinking, thinking, thinking, Hubs’ phone was READY TO GO. He’d gone from OFF to I CAN SEND A TEXT MESSAGE OUT in twelve seconds.
A minute and a half later, I was text-ready, too.
Hubs announced, “Look! I’m all business now! While you’re still spinning out over there, trying to get your hand-held bit of technology ready to go, I’m already up and running! I’m buying and selling stocks, before you even get to Wall Street! I’m sending out emails confirming my purchases with my broker, before you even make it to the office! Being slow is going to cost you the best stock, honey.”
That would be a problem, if I actually UNDERSTOOD the stock market.
So, yes. Hubs’ little HTC Hero phone is now known as The Super Cell That Kicks.
Or Batman, as Hubs likes to call it.
And then, as if that weren’t enough of a technological eye opener to me last week, the boy PLUM FIXED OUR BROKEN VCR LAST WEEK! Oh, yes, he did!
We had a VCR, and, about four years ago, it gave up the ghost and passed away quietly in its sleep. It refused to play VHS tapes any longer, which meant that The Little Mermaid tape was forever dead to me, which didn’t disappoint me overly much, because we had moved on to a Blue-Ray world. VCRs were going to keep us from buying the best stock and quickly, so to speak. For the last four years, that old VCR of ours has sat in a pile of rubble and wires, because Hubs was saving it, because listen, y’all.
THE WIRES OUT OF THAT THING WERE STILL PLUM GOOD!
And apparently you can never have too many plum good wires, even if you have to pull them out of an antique VCR or off of a vacuum cleaner with no pulse.
At some point in the last month, the boy discovered some of his old VHS tapes, and he had a hankering to play them. Hubs and I announced that we were dreadfully sorry, but we would NOT be buying a new VCR, because we were people on the move! People of technological advancements! We were people with one stripped-down cell phone! We had no room in our lives for a little piece of electronic history which would soon be featured on the History Channel’s American Pickers, or even on the boy’s personal favorite, Pawn Stars.
Last Sunday, the boy asked Hubs at the breakfast table, “Can I try to fix our VCR?” Hubs flashed the green light and told him to have at it, but not to throw the wires away, because OLD WIRES = ITEMS OF GREAT VALUE.
So last Sunday after church, the boy grabbed a screwdriver. He took the top and the back off the VCR (I had no idea they even came off!), and he began tinkering around. Thirty minutes later, he had the contraption hooked up to the TV, and it WORKED!
I asked him what in the world he’d done to resurrect the antique, and he said, “Mom, I just took the top and back off of it, and I put a VHS tape into it. I hit the PLAY button, and I watched. And what I saw was that the tape wasn’t spinning. It was stuck in one spot. And then I noticed that there was a piece with a small screw that had come loose, and THAT PIECE was what made the tape spin. So I got a smaller screwdriver, and I reattached that piece, and now it works again! And it works great, Mom! I totally fixed this thing!”
Hubs just grinned at the boy’s explanation, and I could tell that he was dealing with some Dad’s Pride.
And, people, I doubt that it’ll come as much of a shock to any of you that I actually understand about fifteen percent of what goes on in this house!
But what I do understand is a Good Report Card, and I’d like to get myself all involved in a moment of Mama’s Pride right now, because BEHOLD!
This is the boy’s report card from this last week!
Hubs and I told him that if he didn’t improve those second quarter grades (where the Big A Letters where UNADORNED), he’d never get into Harvard, and he’d be out on the streets, digging through trashcans to survive. We’re glad he listened and applied a little more effort in that 4th grade classroom of his. Apparently, sitting on the opposite side of the room from Carter, Quinn and Kellen is Very Helpful!
Every year the boy’s school participates in a Young Author’s contest, which is district-wide. The boy worked very hard on writing a short story this year for that contest, and we just learned that it actually WON at the district level, and it’s now being sent to the state level to compete there!
And now I’ll just step down from the Mama’s Pride Box and let normal life resume, once again.
We’re just kind of stinking proud of that little rugrat of ours. Stinking proud, indeed.
As a reward, we’re letting him KEEP the VCR…old wires and all.