August 9, 2019
Yesterday afternoon, I got fed up with a cell-phone that has not been able to make phone calls or receive phone calls at my residence. It would work at Bel Vista, where my mother is in hospice, and it worked in some other locations, but obstinately faltered at home. Needless to say, since I want to be able get information immediately, should Bel Vista call me at 10:00 p.m., for instance, I was quite upset.
I went to the Verizon store and found out that my cell-phone had to be upgraded because their transmission technology has made my phone obsolete. I had no choice but to pay $172 to get a new cell-phone. I would describe this as a “technology improvement tax,” in which I as the consumer am paying for the improvement. When the worker handed me back my old phone, he said that they had transferred all the contact numbers. “And the photographs?” “Oh, no,” he said, “our computer can’t do that anymore.”
And then back to Bel Vista.
The title of today’s post is a reference to the book of poems by Joseph Hansen that I published when I was the editor of Momentum Press. I remember Joe asking me if I understood what the title of his book was invoking, and when I answered correctly, he looked gratified that he had chosen me as his publisher.
About Bill Mohr